For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic
by Little-Clementine
Summary: A coffee shop AU for Rose/Dimitri. All human.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: HI! I don't really know what this is, I kind of got inspired to write a coffee shop AU for Romitri, and this is the first chapter for it! This fic won't be too many chapters, but I'm aiming for long chapters, and I'm a slow writer, so it could take a while to update. But please, enjoy, and tell me what you think!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Title credit goes to Paramore, because I'm not creative enough to think of a good title, and obviously the character's are Richelle Mead's.**

The coffee shop I work at opens at five fucking o'clock. As in, in the morning.

I mentally curse out my boss as I start the opening routines that are neatly listed in the folder. Open the till. Get out and slice the cakes. Start the coffee machine. Make the filter coffee. Stock up on tea bags, milk, napkins, coffee beans, coffee mugs, coffee sleeves and coffee fucking to-go cups.

I don't even _like_ coffee.

My hatred for coffee and this coffee shops' insane opening hours, (and they were literally insane, because until this day, I have not seen a sane person enter the store before six thirty) did not help the beating headache reminding me of how little sleep I had gotten. Lissa had dragged me to the library for an emergency study session, with the promise of some take out dinner on her expense. By the time she officially declared the session finished, all the decent places had been shut for hours.

Because _their_ bosses understood that they needed sleep to function.

"Morning." Stan grumbled, brushing by me to make his usual morning latte. His face was set into his ever present frown while his hands moved efficiently.

"I'm pretty sure morning starts when the sun rises, which, you know, is in about two hours."

"Don't give me this shit today, Hathaway. And clean up the mess over there. Thank Ashford for not doing it last night, like he was supposed to."

I complied, but made it very clear by my slow movements, and low groans, just what I thought of his commands. As he walked into his office, back to me, he ordered over his shoulder, "And don't forget to smile!"

I was smiling while I was flipping off his back with both hands.

Halfway through picking up littering napkins, the doorbell rung, warning the arrival of a customer. The clock said it was five twenty five. _Unbelievable_.

Ready to make sure this customer knew just how rude they were being by entering this shop so early, I spun around, mustering the meanest glare I could with the pounding headache I had. But damn, was I not expecting what I got. The man that entered was mid twenties, and seriously fucking hot. Hot in the tall, dark and handsome kind of way, nailing every single marker dead on. He was around 6'5, making him a head taller than me, dark hair pulled back, with strands escaping the leather band, and a just all around beautiful face. The only characteristic that could've landed him in my "insane" customer box, was the long leather jacket he wore, which I think are called dusters. He obviously didn't seem the understand that it was slightly unnecessary, considering the temperatures were at a record high for September.

He stopped at my glare, but did not look threatened at all. He did continue staring at me though, which lead to some confusion on my part, until he gestured towards the till and the coffee machine. Oh, right. I walked to the till to take his order, him following on my heels.

Once I rounded the corner, I forced out the pleasantries I had to. "What can I do for you, this ridiculously earlier?"

"Just a coffee, with some milk please." He didn't seem to be taking my hostile nature very serious as he started fishing out some cash. Damn it, his voice sounded as good as he looked. It was tinged with some sort of accent too, Eastern European maybe? I had always been shit at distinguishing accents.

"Okay. Name?" I was not through with my hostile spiel as I grabbed a to-go cup, hoping it would send the message loud and clear that he was not wanted here.

"Dimitri." He replied, putting down the exact change, before I had even stated the price. Good looking, and a pleasant customer.

"Oh, that makes sense then." I mumble, not registering he could hear me, as I scribbled out his name.

"Excuse me?" Dimitri raised one of his eyebrows, arching it perfectly. Fuck, that made me irrationally jealous to see.

"Well, you're Russian, right?" He nodded as I set about his order, making a double espresso shot. I watched over my shoulder to see him nod, and continued, "And Russia is what, like nine hours ahead of us?"

"Depends where in Russia. We have eleven time zones."

"What?!" I spun around, only half filling his cup with boiling water. "Eleven?! That's ridiculous! You guys really need to downsize!"

His eyes showed me he clearly found my ignorance amusing, but his expression didn't give too much away.

"I'll pass that advice right on, thank you. Putin will be glad to hear it," he said.

I let out a snort, before returning to finishing the coffee. "Anyway, getting back to the point, we will generalise Russia and say you're around twelve hours ahead. That means, since you're running on Russia time, it's actually five thirty in the afternoon for you, which is a totally acceptable time for you to be getting coffee at a coffee shop."

I hand him his boiling coffee with milk after finishing my theory. Something about what I said seems to be striking him as funny, even though I hold by it.

"What kind of logic is that?" He asks, bordering on smiling.

"Oh, it's my own special brand of Rose logic." I say, tapping my name tag.

"Since I've been living here for years and am not jet lagged, let me propose another idea, Rose."

"And that is?" I say as placing my hands defiantly on my hips, not willing to show what him saying my name does to me.

"That," he leaned in conspiratorially, "some people enjoy mornings."

I lean away, shaking my head.

"Nope, that's definitely not it. I will tell you what I told my boss: the morning doesn't start until the sun is somewhere _near_ the horizon. Right now, the sun is still 12 hours away, in Russia."

He shook his head, finally smiling, before looking down at his coffee.

"Dimitri," he said unexpectedly, and I was close to placing him back in the insane customers box. Then he turned the cup to me, showing me where I wrote _Dmitri_ in barely legible scribble."I have three i's in my name, not two."

"Well, Dimitri with three i's, I would tell you I will spell it right next time, but since I'm a barista, that will _never_ happen. Now, please, let me never see you here this early again." I said with the biggest, shiniest, most non-threatening smile, following Stan's exact instructions.

He smiled back, stating, "We will see," before turning around and finding an armchair to sit in by the window. Somehow, I felt more threatened by his last words than he was by mine. What happened? Had I lost my ability, which I am very proud of, to threaten people?

I continued with the rest of the morning activities, like cleaning down the shelves, sometimes shooting a glance at Dimitri. He had pulled a book out of thin air, and was deeply engrossed in it, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me.

By the time the regulars started arriving just past six o'clock, he was on the way out.

—-

Lissa pranced in at nine thirty, looking peppy, holding a Starbucks coffee in her manicured hand.

"Really?" I shot her coffee a look, before returning to the order I was making. "Stan will burn a puppy if he sees that."

She looks stricken at my comment. "Don't joke about that, I will start an animal rights protest right outside this place if I hear of Stan hurting any puppies. You know I have my contacts."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Liss, I know _too much_ about your animal rights contacts."

She looked satisfied at my response, and continued, "Anyway, I really needed the caffeine hit after yesterday, I couldn't wait 'til here. I will buy something though… do you still have those scones? I'll have that."

I handed my customer their iced caramel latte, wishing them a good day, and then moved onto putting a scone on a plate for Lissa.

As she was finding the cash, I finally start to relax, since the morning rush was over. My mind started to wander, and when she handed me a twenty I would now need to break, I asked, "Hey, did you know Russia has _eleven_ time zones?"

She stopped picking at the scone.

"Yeah, it kind of figures, considering just how huge Russia is." She says.

"That's crazy though! It's morning in one part of Russia, afternoon in another, and evening in another!"

Lissa nods and chews her scone, not leaving the counter.

"So," she draws out, "was he cute? The guy who told you about this?"

In response, I throw a piece of her scone at her face.

—

It's my third year of college, and this semester, by some sort of miracle, I had managed to get all my classes to start after eleven a.m. But apparently, due to the karmic energy thinking my life was going too smoothly right now, Stan managed to overhear me bragging about it to Mason.

I was so close to quitting on the spot when I saw the work schedule for September/October and all the five a.m. shifts I would have.

 _I am hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt._ I remind myself as I get out of the bed every day.

 _I cannot afford to quit._ I repeat to myself, as morning shifts pass by in a breeze of angry customers and annoying co-workers.

 _I need an education_. I tell myself every time I punch in at work at four fifty nine.

But now, the normal morning ritual changed slightly. The last mantra I repeat to myself is: _Maybe Dimitri will come today._

—-

The first time he returns, after four days and two morning shifts, my annoyance wins out. No matter how cute the customer, making me work before six a.m. was downright rude. And also, he was interrupting me while I was applying mascara.

I stick the tube away and glare as he makes his way across the store. He looks just as good as last time, and my glaring still does not seem to affect him in the slightest.

"Did you not understand me last time? We're not _actually_ open."

"Really? You want me to ask your boss about that?" He says, already looking for change.

"Don't drag my boss into this. He's busy stealing the pacifiers from babies and stepping on ducklings."

"One coffee with milk, please." He says, while handing me the cash. His hands were warm and rough over mine.

"Stop being so goddamn courteous and be insulted enough to never come here again." I respond, while doodling his name on a cup and getting to work.

"You are going to have to try harder, if that's your goal. I have three sisters who made being rude to me a mission while growing up." He smiles at the memory, and I realise I want to hear more about this mysterious guy and his weird morning habits and his family back in Russia.

"Are you really challenging me? Because, let me tell you, I broke a girls arm in high school. It was not accidentally either."

I scanned his face for a reaction, but the only response I got was, "I think I'm a little stronger than a teenage girl."

Seriously? Will nothing freak this guy out? I literally just told him one of the worst things I've done. Well, one of many.

"Sure you are." I say, scanning his chest and arm muscles. "After this, you'll probably go work out, then have a healthy and fibrous breakfast, and then start your nine to five job."

When he didn't respond, I continued, "God, I hit the nail on the head, didn't I? You're one of those people that has gotten their lives just totally figured out."

Somehow, that made him even more attractive to me.

With a rueful smile, he counters, "And you're one of those people who brags about breaking the arms of teenagers."

"Hold up," I hold his finished coffee out of his reach. "That was a threat, not a brag, but I do see where I went wrong there. Next time I wanna threaten someone, I'll say I broke the arm of this early customer who was super buff."

I hand him his coffee, after he's done shaking his head at me. He was about the reply, but I get surprised when I hear him laughing instead. Is there anything about him that wasn't attractive? It was unfair.

"Really? Dimitri with three eyes?" He asks, his brown eyes twinkling with laughter at the little drawing I had done on his cup. Instead of writing i's, I had drawn a little eye in their places.

"Yes, I'm pretty funny, aren't I." I give him my shit eating smile, and then I wonder how this encounter had progressed from me glaring at him to genuinely smiling. "Now, go drink your nasty coffee and let me finish my makeup."

"You don't like coffee?"

After I shook my head, he starts laughing even more. He muttered something about irony, but I was too focused on my mascara to really listen.

—-

I thought we'd hit a jackpot when Lissa and I had found this apartment a few months ago. It was affordable, walking distance from campus and work, and the toilets seemed to flush properly. There was nothing to complain about, which lead Liss to sign the lease basically on the spot. The place lived up to its potential. There were no complaints to be made during summer. We had had a very dry summer, which was why, when the storm session started, we were not prepared in the slightest.

The roof was fucking leaking. And everything was wet.

The water had already shorted most of the electrical appliances, so right now I was racing to save all the (expensive) college books and papers and notes that I could, while simultaneously trying to set up buckets and tins and even an ashtray to try and collect all the dripping rain water.

"Grab some more buckets or bins or something, would ya?" I yell at Lissa, while trying to spread a plastic sheet over the couch, which was already very wet at this point. My hair was plastered to my skull, so much so that I barely saw Lissa enter the living room with two more buckets and her phone wedged between her shoulder and her ear. She had been trying to reach the landlord for over half an hour now, and she looked about ready to strangle him.

I found places for the two new buckets, and then sank to the floor with a kitchen towel to start cleaning puddles.

"No, no- I need his personal number. No, I don't care that you shouldn't be giving that number out, his work phone is off and this is an emergency. Yes, an emergent emergency- Look, everything we own is being drenched-"

Before Lissa could finish her explanation, I took her cellphone from her and started talking myself. While Lissa's good natured presence had a positive effect on many occasions, this was not one of them. "Listen up. Either give us his number, or I will personally make it my life's mission to be as big an inconvenience to you as you are to us right now. And trust me, I am a motherfucking big inconvenience when I put my mind to it. So please, do us both this favour and take the easy way out, which would be by giving us the damn number."

There was silence on the other end of the phone while the landlords' secretary mulled over my vague threats.

"I could be outside your front door demanding that number in about twenty minutes. Would you rather want that?" I ask.

With a sigh, she answer, "Fine. Just don't tell him it was me."

I wrote down the number she gave me, and hung up. When I looked up at Lissa, she looked slightly awed.

"Amazing. No matter how many persuasive speech or rhetoric classes I take, your threats will always be more effective."

Lissa then tries to snatch the phone back from me to call the landlord. What she didn't account for was the slickness of my fingers due to all the water, and this sent the phone flying, right into a bucket of dirty rain water, finishing its fall with a loud _plop._

I jump down to grab the phone out the water, but the damage was already done. I look at Lissa, who stood completely still, waiting for a reaction after the initial shock, but boy, was I not expecting what I got. She took one look at the soaked phone and started sobbing her eyes out.

She took the phone from me and hurried towards the kitchen, trying to stifle her cries with her other hand, and I followed on her heels.

"Lissa? Lissa, what's wrong?"

"My- my phone…" She started filling a plastic bag with rice, before placing the phone in the bag.

"Liss, you know the rice trick normally fixes it. Remember how many times I dropped my phone in the toilet? Shhhh, it'll be okay." I wrapped my arms around Lissa as she sunk to the floor clutching the bag of rice to her chest.

"I can't- I can't-" She cried, uncontrollable, heartbreaking sobs shaking her frail form, and I moved so that her head was resting on my shoulders.

"Everything's so _fucked_. How did we get here? The apartment has no roof, we have no family, I am behind on all my assignments, he _proposed_ to me-" Her ranting was interrupted by her sobbing, and I hugged her insanely tight, trying to transfer all my love and comfort for her through the touch.

I hush her, slightly rocking back and forth, noticing how a small puddle was forming not far away. There was a time I had been ridiculously jealous of Lissa. At sixteen, Liss had had a loving, albeit repressed, family that allowed her a happy childhood. She grew up in a financially stable, borderline rich, environment and had her first proper relationship with the "dream guy"; she had even gotten a early application scholarship to an ivy league. By seventeen, her family had died, and all the rest of it didn't matter to her anymore. She became seriously depressed, and no money or relationship she had could fix it. The only one who could slightly help, was me. I was her last piece of family left, while she had always been my first piece of "family". Although, even now, she still had the family fortune and the same "dream guy", I know she would give both up in a split second for me if she had to, just as I would. She had already proven that once, when she refused her ivy league acceptance to go to the same second rate college as me. It made my heart swell, even though this was as much for her, as it was for me. We couldn't be separated, no matter who tried.

Once she quieted down, I started to try to find out what caused this breakdown - other than the dead phone, of course.

"Wait, so let's backtrack. Aaron… He proposed?!"

Wordlessly, she nodded against my shoulder. Her tears had soaked straight through my shirt.

"So, um… What did you say?"

"I told him," her voice was shaky, but humour leaked through, "I told him I'd think about it. He did everything exactly by the book: the dinner was so romantic, with roses and candles and champagne, and he looked so dreamy, and the ring was beautiful and exactly my style. And oh my God, the speech he gave? I couldn't have written anything better. Yet, when it came to an answer? I told him I'd think about it. As if he were offering to open a joint savings account. Which, I guess he was."

Lissa had slid down, so her head was resting in my lap, and I was running my fingers through her silky hair, an action I knew she enjoyed and calmed her down.

"Well, dude, I think it's about time I say this." I said.

"Hmm?" She raised an eyebrow.

 _"_ You…" I hesitated, "You don't love him. I mean, you love him, of course. Just… not in the right way, and you know this, deep down. It's the reason you didn't accept. He's comfortable, and easy, and fun, and there's no surprises, so you've confused that feeling of security with love."

Lissa didn't respond, keeping her eyes closed as I kept going with my fingers.

"Aaron, he's a part of your life from before the- the crash. Your parents and brother met Aaron, as your boyfriend. So obviously, you would want to stay with him, because your parents and brother _won't_ meet your next boyfriend. But, love is something special, at least from what I've heard, and you really should not settle on this. They wouldn't have wanted you to."

Then there's a silence as I wait for her to react. I know for sure that I would have been mad at hearing this from someone, but with Lissa, it was always hard to tell exactly how she'd react on matters concerning her parents.

"You know," she cracked open an eye with a serene smile, "for someone who's such a pessimist, you're ridiculously idealist."

I laugh with relief at her response, pausing my fingers. "I know exactly how bizarre my personality is. Now, let's try to save what little there is to save of this apartment."

"Hmm. No, there's no point. Keep doing the hair thing, instead."

—-

Dimitri's third visit had officially made it a routine for me. Profusely swearing at him, and even adding obscene gestures, didn't affect him at all. On his forth time at the shop, I was so hungover I barely passed him his coffee before I had to excuse myself to the bathroom. It wasn't until he had left that I realised I didn't even charge him, but it turned out he had left the exact change on the counter. Thank God Stan never leaves his office before seven thirty, because that could've gotten me in a lot of trouble.

By the fifth time Dimitri came, I rolled my eyes at his entrance, making it clear for him to see, but I had to turn away and begin making his coffee before he arrived at the counter, because of the treacherous smile that stretched across my face. It was hard to admit, but seeing him cheered me up just a little bit.

"So, I've been doing some research to fix this whole, eleven time zones problem." I start.

"I didn't know it _was_ a problem." He rubs his eyes, the only sign that might alert attention to how early it is. You know, aside from the darkness outside.

"We both know it's a problem. Apparently, although China technically crosses five time zones, after some civil war, the government just decided to say 'fuck it' and abolished time zones all together in China, so now they only have one. Do you think anyone has told Putin that that was an option?" I finished his coffee and passed it to him, fingers brushing his a little longer than necessary. If he noticed, he didn't draw any attention to it.

He looked slightly impressed and slightly exasperated.

"I understand that time is simply a social construct, but if you turn eleven time zones into one, all you do is create a mess. While the clock will say five a.m. over all of Russia, it will actually already be afternoon is some places and even evenings in others. Not to mention how that will mess with the circadian rhythms of the people. And also, which time zone do you choose to be the prominent one? I think doing what the Chinese did will cause more problems than it will solve."

"Wow," I raise my hands in a sign of defeat. "That was way too much analytical thinking this early in the morning. All I needed was a 'Great idea, Rose. I'll leave you a tip for thinking of that.'"

I caught a glimpse of a smile on his face, which was soon replaced by bashfulness as he said, "Sorry, I forget about the American tipping culture," before throwing a few coins in the jar.

"You're forgiven," I say, since the change would probably add up to around three dollars. "Now back to the point: I actually think I'd enjoy living in a place where five a.m. is actually one p.m. Like, my work hours would be so much more doable."

"Well, mine wouldn't. My nine to five job would actually be from six in the evening to two in the morning." Although all our transactions were through, Dimitri continued hovering by the counter. Not that I wasn't enjoying it.

"Ha! I'm liking the aspect of this time skewed place more and more." I grinned at him, and starting fiddling with my ponytail to hide the nerves I was getting in anticipation of my next question. "What do you do, though? I mean, you know where I work, and how this works into the stereotype of the broke college student I am embodying, but I think I deserve to know how I can stereotype you, aside from the Russian stereotype you already got going, Comrade."

I shut myself up, and hope he doesn't notice the heat rising into my cheeks.

He quirked an eyebrow at the nickname, but didn't mention it. Thank God. His eyes were trained onto the hands in my hair, as if I were doing something much more fascinating than adjusting the hair tie. "Um, I work at a law firm. Pretty low in the food chain right now. I also teach self defence classes twice a week."

"Oh. So, you're the hero type. Defender of the downtrodden. Saviour to the broken." I had been told by a shrink my habit of compartmentalising people was extremely unhealthy and would lead to me being disappointed in the people I was categorising. Not that it stopped me from doing it.

"Well, not exactly hero; it's a lot more complicated than that. But, I guess that's the goal."

"Of course it is. Isn't it always?"

Dimitri smiled at me, as if he had just figured something out. "Well, to us? Maybe. But I can promise you, there are people out there with very other ideals."

The doorbell rang, and snapped me out of my Dimitri haze. Apparently, it was already time for the regulars to start coming in, and I was seriously behind on the morning tasks. Dimitri took this as his cue to leave, waving before finding his place at the window, but I realised how many questions I still had to ask. Or what I could still tell him. I didn't even mention Liss was also studying to be a lawyer.

Oh well. Next time.

—-

Over the years, I had developed a certain talent that other's envied. That being, I was completely able to zone out people yelling at me, which came in especially useful when it involved Stan yelling. Mason had yet to master this skill, and that is why, when it came to rush hour at the coffee shop between eight and nine a.m., he stood at the coffeemaker so I could shout the orders at him. Also, he might be better at actually making cappuccinos and shit, but you'll never hear me admit that.

"Mase, two iced lattes, and another salted caramel latte." I yell, before phonily smiling at the next customer.

I could feel his annoyed stare at the back head. "For the love of God, can you not just write it down?"

"I would, but that would be too easy for you. You've already dropped college; I'm just training your mind so cobwebs don't grow up there."

Mason turned around to hand two older ladies their cappuccinos with a 'have a nice day'. They smiled back as if they had just fallen a little bit in love with him and his fiery mane.

After that, his smile turned condescending, "How cute, you think you can help that? You can't even add up the coins to make the proper change."

I twisted round to smack him. "Shut up, that happened no more than like, four times."

"Four times that I witnessed. I'm gonna start asking around."

I glare at him, but then I see Stan's stare from across the room, so I start taking orders again. This is an age-old game Mason and I play: the 'who is dumber' game. Mason gave me plenty of ammunition when he dropped out of college his second year into a business major and took a year long trip around south-east Asia. I gave him a lot of material by… well, by just being me.

After a few more customers come in and forget to leave tips, the wave calms down and for a few minutes the happy chattering of the late morning customers, mostly pregnant women and old couples, calms me down. Then, a thought strikes me.

"Mase!" I turn to face him, gripping one of his biceps, "Wow, have you been working out? Without me? We should really put all those muscles to some practical use."

"Oh no. What are you trying to rope me into?" He shot me a suspicious look, while cleaning the coffee machine.

"Nothing, nothing," I say in a singsong voice, "I was just wondering if you had plans this weekend, you know how terrible my separation anxiety gets when we're separated for too long."

He rolled his eyes at me, but I could see in his smile that my comment pleased him. "Eddie got us tickets to a new club opening at a place called Butchers on Saturday. I'm really psyched, I heard it's gonna be bloody."

"Um, I'm offended! How come I wasn't invited? You know my love for gore… But I mean, I could forgive you, if you just stayed awake after Butchers and came straight over to my place."

"What? Why?"

"Well, Lissa and I are kinda moving Sunday."

Realization dawned on him. "Right! The ceiling! You guys found a new place so fast?"

"Yea, it's just a few minutes from the dorms, so we got really lucky. I swear, Liss hypnotised him or something to make him let us moving in so fast. So… how much would I need to annoy you to get you to agree?"

"Sorry, no amount will work, I'm on babysitting duty for my sister Sunday." He looked apologetic, but I knew he was bullshitting the sympathy.

"Oh, you suddenly remembered that?"

"I do have family obligations once in a while, Rose. Otherwise, I'd love to be at your beck and call every other minute of my life." His sarcasm didn't help me out.

"Well fine, go play happy family. I'll have to find another victim," I say, just before a good-looking twenty year old with bronze hair walked through the door. He looked like he walked right off the runway. Not an ideal candidate, since he looked lanky, but it'll do.

"And speaking of the devil," I flashed the new guy my most seductive smile, wishing I was wearing my hair down, so I could play with it. Instead, I leaned over to give him a better view of my chest. Cheap tactics, I know.

"Are you thinking clearly? A random customer? Rose!" I could feel the disapproval and jealousy leaking off Mason behind me, but I didn't let it bother me. I start to think about another random customer. Dimitri had come in this morning, and I tell myself the only reason I was checking out his arm muscles was to evaluate how good he would be at moving.

I snap out of that thought when this new guy gets to the counter.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi," he responds, eyes flashing down my shirt. It's ridiculous how easy this was gonna be.

"What can I do for you?" I continue smiling, not breaking the eye contact.

"A cortado, please." He also doesn't break the eye contact as he hands me the cash. His fingers linger on mine. Along with the money, he gives me a business card. I had to give it to this guy, he knew how to be smooth.

"Okay," - I look down at the card to identify him - "Jesse, your cortado will be up in a minute. Are you taking it to-go?" I made a big action of slipping his card down my front jean pocket, and enjoyed watching his eyes linger on the rest of my body.

"Y-yes, I am. Wish I could take you to-go too." He said, licking his lips.

Wow, that was one of the worst pick up lines I've heard. But if I'm one thing, I'm no quitter, so I reply: "Sorry, I'm not part of the package deal, you'll need to pay extra."

After winking at him, I scribble his order, name and my phone number on his cup before giving it to Mason, who looked like a cross between a disapproving father and jealous boyfriend.

While the order was being made, I take the opportunity to actually get to know Jesse. Apparently, he has a business bachelor and is now working for his fathers' firm. It was easy talking, because he could ramble on about himself, but he never got around to asking me what I did, other than being a barista. When Mason came with the coffee, Jesse looked down at the number I wrote, and I shrugged.

"Just returning the favour. Hope to see you soon!" And with that, Jesse was gone. Now, it was time to wait.

Mason stared at me.

"What?" I cross my arms, reflecting his posture.

"Are you serious about this trust-fund baby, or are you really so desperate for help moving this weekend?"

I hummed, "Can't it be a mix of both?"

He looked baffled, "That guy has never had to lift a box in his life! There is no way you will get him to help you move."

"I can be very persuasive," I smirk, giving him the same man eater smile from before. Mason looked like he was about to fall over. I was being cruel; I knew of Mason's crush, so I was just playing with him at this point. Maybe punishing him for not being available.

Then, I feel the buzzing of my phone, and see a text from an unknown number. _Hook, line and sinker._

 _—_ —-

"What… are you doing?"

I spin around, surprised at how easily he had snuck up on me, to see Dimitri, hair messy, due to the stormy weather, and a bandage around his right hand and arm. He was wearing a nice sweater today, which was stretching very nicely to accommodate his wide shoulders. Damn.

"Nothing," I shoved the cards back into their hiding place, and return to the till to serve him the usual. Yet, before I start, my hands hesitate.

I turn once again, to see Dimitri trying to tame the mess that the wind had done to his hair. When he sees me looking at him, he gives me a ' _What do you want_?' kind of look.

"How about a little variation? For once? I'm tired of making the same coffee, and people tell me mixing up habits are good for the health."

"Okay," He conceeds, which completely throws me off pace, because Dimitri is not the kind of person that seems to buy into my bullshit.

"I'll have a coffee…" he continues, " _without_ milk."

The conversation skips a beat as I stare at him, deadpan.

"Now you're just fucking with me."

He smiled, in a way which gave away that he most certainly was.

"Fine, I knew convincing you would be hard." I start with the regular coffee routine, "But like, I'm cramming for a psych test right now, on all sorts of mental diseases, and I'm pretty sure coming to a coffee shop just to order plain coffee and none of these other caramel-y or gingerbread-y drinks was a symptom for some disease."

"Is that what you were doing over there? Cramming?" He points to the to-go station, where we had lids and coffee sleeves, and where I had also hidden some flashcards I had stolen from Lissa. I had a bunch spread out over the whole shop, so I could have little study sessions while doing the usual morning chores. Dimitri have walked in on me while I was filling up the station with the essentials, and also trying to remember what exactly somatic symptom disorder is.

I was always glad when Lissa and I have a shared class. We usually tried to fit one class we both found interesting into our schedules, although our majors were vastly different. I mean, if nothing else, extra credit was always good. This semester, we had both decided on trying out 'Abnormal Psychology', which sounds a lot cooler than it actually turns out to be. Apparently, Lissa had already known this before signing up for the class, yet hadn't warned me, so I felt completely justified when I took her meticulous flashcards for ab psych out of her bag before work today.

"Well yeah, we have a test next week, which is worth like twenty percent of our grade." I, however, had no time this weekend to study, since I was packing and moving, so now seemed like the perfect time to study.

"And what class is it for?"

"Abnormal psychology."

"You're a psychology major?" He seemed surprised.

"No… I'm doing a degree in social work. This is an extra credit class." For some reason, admitting my major caused a flush to go over me. It felt personal, as I had only recently decided this to be my major.

"So, the hero type, huh?" Dimitri parroted back the words to me from a previous conversation, with a sly glint in his eyes, and the grin that stretched across my face would under normal circumstances have been embarrassing.

"Along those lines, yes." I had to break eye contact with him at this point, cause I could barely contain my giddiness at having some sort of inside joke with Dimitri.

"Tell me, does telling your customers they're mentally ill ever help business?"

I hummed, "Definitely, it actually helps _attract_ customers. My hourly rate as a psychologist is very price competitive."

He rolls his eyes fondly, before buying the coffee and taking it from me. He goes to sit down at his usual table in the corner, by the window, and was already absorbed in some book when I look back at him a few seconds later.

I return to the to-go station, to finish up filling it up and to finish those flashcards, and then I move onto straightening up the magazines scattered on coffee tables and the various array of chairs. Intermittently, I find the flashcards I hid just before my shift started.

'What are the main categories of the DSM-5, and which disorders have become more developed since the previous edition?' Lissa's loopy cursive stares up at me, and the only thought that repeats itself in my head is _I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck…_

Studying and school had always been tough for me. College definitely did not seem to be in my cards, especially considering my high school grades. But, after Lissa's family all died, I knew I could not leave her alone at college. I got into the best college I could, which was one of Lissa's safety schools, and after two years, I ended up being the only sophomore still without a major. That was, until I got a verbal beating by one of my advisors and chose Social Work, because I had always been a very street smart person.

I mindlessly continued cleaning and straightening the tables, until I reached the one in the corner. The one Dimitri was sitting at, completely engrossed in the book, yet I still had the feeling he could sense where I was standing.

Before I really thought it through, and before I even considered Stan kicking my ass for it, I plonked down onto the worn armchair opposite Dimitri and grabbed the stack of flashcards from under the newspapers from yesterday.

Dimitri looked over the top of his book, which had an image of a guy and a horse on it, and said, "Hey."

"Hey," I responded, before we both engrossed ourselves in our choice of (forced) literature. It was surprising how comfortable I felt, just doing my own thing with him so close to me. I had always been one to fill any sort of silence with chatter.

It was around the fifth flashcard that I felt his stare on me.

"What?" I looked up to meet his intense eyes, focused just above my eyes.

"How can you look so confused at material you've already gone over in class?" He asked, and I realized he was looking at my scrunched eyebrows. Attractive, Rose, well done.

"I swear I have never heard of half of these terms before."

"And were you listening in the lectures? Taking notes?"

I snorted, "These aren't even my flashcards."

I got my second eye roll of the day. Unexpectedly, he reached over and grabbed the cards out of my hands smoothly.

"Let me help. I did a course on psychology too." He said, eyes scanning the questions. Before I was finished gaping at him, he was already asking the first question: "What is the difference between the cognitive, behavioural and biological approach to psychology?"

When I didn't respond, he looked up again. His look challenged a response from me, and I was definitely not backing down.

"Fine, let's see. They're all medical models to treat mood disorders. The biological approach is the easiest, because the theory is just these disorders are caused by the physical or biological factors, like genetics and neurotransmitters. The behavioural approach is about how, the environment and stimuli affect our behaviour and manage to condition us into certain behaviour. Therefore, through a change of environment, we also change our behaviour… or something along those lines. And cognitive is, um, about mental pathways and mental functions?" - Dimitri nodded, to urge me along - "Well, cognitive looks at the way a patient thinks, like how they process information, what functions they use, like their memory, or their sense perception."

When I finished speaking, heat rushed to my cheeks as I saw the proud smile on Dimitri's face. Man, does he look good.

"I knew you could do it." I smiled back at him, but he cut me off as I opened my mouth, "No time to slack though, we have quite a few cards to go through."

That was how we spent a good twenty minutes, and I could feel myself getting more and more confident in my answers. I still didn't know a lot of answers, but just listening to Dimitri tell me the answer in that deep voice of his was a treat of its own.

"Okay, so dissociative disorders are when-"

"Hathaway!" Stan's roar made my jump to my feet and nearly fall onto Dimitri. "What in the hell do you think you are doing?"

Snapping back to reality, the clock told me it was just past six, and I was very much behind on the chores I had set out to do. Stan was approaching close, looking about ready to pop a clot. Uh oh.

I shot Dimitri a smile, and whisper to him, "Okay, thanks so much for the help, I really appreciate it."

"It was fun," he replied, looking as if he had also just been caught doing something illicit.

I was just able to hide the cards down my shirt, knowing Stan wouldn't put his hands down there. This only seemed to enrage him more.

"Hathaway." His voice was low, so Dimitri wouldn't overhear, but the warning was clear. "You better get your ass moving in less than a second, or that ass will be very unemployed. Also, you are getting five minutes of your pay pulled."

And with that scolding, I returned to the hell that was work, with a little more knowledge of abnormal psychology.

—-

02:51 from "Jesse" - _Hey, I'm at a club, wanna join? ;)_

04:07 from "Jesse" - _Guess you were asleep, sorry for the late text._

04:23 from "Jesse" - _I had a real fun time last time we met, how about a round two? I'll make it up for having to go so early the last time ;)_

04:34 from "Jesse" _\- How did moving going, by the way?_

I arrive at the lecture hall, winded and fashionably late from my shift at the cafe. Slipping into a seat at the back, it takes me all of seven minutes to get bored of the econ teacher going on and on about supply and demand. I pull out my phone to re-read the texts Jesse sent last night, not replying and not giving a fuck that he could see I'd seen them. I fucking hate his stupid winky faces. I opened Lissa's contact and start texting.

11:43 to "Liss3" _\- i cant believe i slept with him_

11:47 from "Liss3" _\- it sounded like you were enjoying yourself :P_

11:49 to "Liss3" _\- i was faking_

11:50 to "Liss3" _\- but seriously, what was i thinking_

11:54 from "Liss3" _\- lol_

11:55 from "Liss3" _\- i think your thoughts were along the lines of, 'if i sleep with on Saturday, he'll pass out and he'll stay the night, so when he wakes up on Sunday, he has to help us move because he'll feel indebted cause i slept him'_

11:55 to "Liss3" _\- see that sounds like such a great plan! ingenious! how did that not work!_

11:57 from "Liss3" _\- cause you slept with a fuckboy_

11:57 from "Liss3" _\- what was his excuse again? :P_

12:00 to "Liss3" _\- omg dont remind me. ill never hear the end of it from mason_

12:01 to "Liss3" - _he said he can't lift heavy things or put pressure on his wrists_

12:01 to "Liss3" - _because he sprained them PLAYING GOLF._

12:01 to "Liss3" - _PLAYING GOLF LISSA._

12:02 from "Liss3" - _ahahahahahhahhaha :D at least now you can cross sleeping with a "weak-wristed guy" off your bucket list_

12:04 to "Liss3" - _ive been with a gay guy, so it's already crossed off_

12:05 from "Liss3" - _ROSE. Limp-wristed is a slur, dont say that. its really offensive :/_

12:06 to "Liss3" - _sorry, sorry!_

12:06 to "Liss3" - _Bad joke, I apologize. seriously 3_

12:07 to "Liss3" - _anyways, what are you up to? This prof is boring the shit out of me_

12:10 from "Liss3" - _Im in the library now, I went to my criminality prof's open hours :)_

12:10 from "Liss3" - _now im going to study for that psych test that's like 20 percent of our grade tomorrow._

12:12 to "Liss3" - _neeeeerd._

12:13 from "Liss3" - _hey, do you know where my flashcards are? for psych? i swear i put them in my bag._

12:17 from "Liss3" - _?_

12:21 from "Liss3" - _you took them didn't you,_

12:26 from "Liss3" - _bitch_

 _—_ —-

When Dimitri came in Wednesday morning, I was surprised at how sore my muscles still were when I started making the coffee. Moving had been an organised chaos, with me being the brawn and Lissa the brains. Since my recruiting didn't go _exactly_ as planned, I ended up carrying most of our belonging up the four flights of stairs alone. But it was ridiculous that my muscles were still bitching at me, three days after the move.

I started stretching out my arms and legs, hoping to relieve some of the pain, but I only realised how strange my actions must have appeared until I turned to face Dimitri, who seemed to have registered my movements.

"Sore?" He asked.

 _We could do things that would make me sore in the best kind of way…_ I push that thought out as soon as it enters my head.

"Yeah," I said, wringing out my wrists. "I moved apartments on Sunday, and both places didn't have elevators. So it was down three flights of stairs in my old apartment and up four flights in the new one."

"That's a lot for your muscles to take. Did you stretch afterwards?"

"No," I said in the most 'dub' voice possible, "I didn't work out. You only need to stretch after work-outs."

"But you moved apartments, which required strenuous physical activity." He replied, in the most 'duh' voice possible.

"Well, yeah."

He raised an eyebrow at me, and let it be silent for a moment, as if hoping it would click in my mind. What he didn't seem to understand yet, was just how stubborn I was. So I raised my eyebrows right back.

He ended up being the first to talk, with an eye roll.

"That's the definition of a work out."

"And you're the definition of a smartass, smartass." I crossed my arms, but at the sight of his smile in response to my comment, I felt my soreness evaporate. God, did his smile do sacrilegious things to me.

"Just… maybe stretch next time." He raised his hands in defeat.

"God, please let there not be a next time. I don't need the ceiling to collapse on me _again_."

"Hmm? Your ceiling collapsed?"

"Well, not literally, but basically. The ceiling had so many leeks in it I don't know how it didn't collapse. We should probably sue for reckless endangerment. Do you know any good lawyers?" I winked and grinned, leaning forward.

He leans into me as well, on a microscopic level, but I'm taking everything I can get. When he realises what he's doing, he leans back and seems shocked with himself, but regains composure fast.

"One or two. You might have a case there but… I don't know if you could afford me."

Was he… Was this his strange way of flirting? Because if it was, it would definitely be something I could get into.

"Helping out two college girls pro bono is good for the public image. It could even get you some sort of 'valiant hero' award."

He smiles, and I realize the colour of his brown eyes is so dark, it's hard to distinguish between the pupil and the iris. They were intense… and intoxicating. We slip into a silence of looking at each other, which passes all too quickly when Dimitri shakes himself out of it.

"You know, I had a leaky roof as well, when I was a kid. I think I was twelve, and it was the middle of winter so the snow was about a metre high, surprisingly little for that time of year, and the roof just got too wet, so it started snowing in the living room."

"No way! Shit!"

"Yeah, you never appreciate just how wet snow is, until its inside your house. But basically, all the roads were blocked due to the snow, and the handyman in our town couldn't reach us, so my mother, grandmother and I had to get up on the roof in the evening and cover all the holes with extra wooden planks. The problem was, first we had to find the leaks, which were all covered in heavy snow. The story ends in my grandmother and I getting a bad cold for about a week."

I laugh, more in awe than anything else. If this guy had been this tough since his childhood, then I had some serious catching up to do. He's smart, he knows how to fight and now he's handy? I might have just fallen a little in love.

"I feel like any time I have a shitty experience, you can just one up me with the 'Russia edition' of the same experience. Like, what if I told you about the pregnancy scare I had at seventeen?"

He raised his eyebrow, and let there be a moment of silence before responding.

"I'd tell you my big sister got pregnant at seventeen and kept the baby."

"See! You'll always one up me!"

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to collect some loose strands back into his ponytail. He wasn't successful, but oh, did I appreciate watching this.

"Well then, I'd rather you don't have more bad experiences, because then I wouldn't have to experience a worse version of it."

"Wait, what? What kind of logic is that?"

"I think it's what you would like to call Rose logic." His eyes twinkled with mirth. He really seemed to enjoy it when he managed to baffle me. I couldn't have that.

"Hey, do not mess with the master of Rose logic. I have made men cry with that logic." He smiled, not making eye contact, and I could sens he was steeling himself for something.

"All I'm trying to say is: next time you need help with something like this, I'm always willing to help. I've moved a pretty long way from home, so I'd consider myself pretty good at it, and also, I heard I might get a 'valiant hero' award if I help two college girls pro bono?"

Oh.

His smile, mingled with his words, cause my brain to scramble for a moment. He offered to help me, a near stranger, move. Me, the person who had deceivingly slept with someone, just to try and get them to help. I really didn't deserve this kind of man, but yet…

"Thank you Dimitri, I will definitely call you next time I have any minor inconvenience in my life."

I cringe at the lame joke I made, but also at the fact that it made aware that there was no contact between me and Dimitri other than these mornings at the coffee shop. I didn't have his number, nor did I know his last name, so there could also be no social media stalking. Although he doesn't seem like the social media type.

But all Dimitri does is smile, and it's a sweet smile which I return, and then we're just smiling at each other like complete idiots. What is happening to me?

He turns to leave and go sit down to read the Western that is always with him, but before he can go I force myself to ask,

"Dimitri… What's your last name?"

He looked surprised, but answered, "Belikov. Dimitri Belikov. What's yours?"

"I'm Rose Hathaway," I say.

"Nice to meet you, Rose Hathaway."

I wave him off and return to my other duties, but this dumb smile Dimitri installed on my face wouldn't leave. What a dumb crush I was having. He probably had a girlfriend and a put together life. He wouldn't want to deal with the mess that comes with being with me.

But those facts didn't stop me from pulling out my phone and deleting Jesse's number once and for all.

 _Dimitri would have helped me move._

—-—-


	2. Chapter 2

"I did it."

I jump, not hearing Lissa sneak up to me over the thumping of the heavy rap music, and I spin around, spilling half of my lager.

"Fuck," I start to wipe the excess beer off the leather pants I had donned tonight, but I forgot about that quickly when I really took in Lissa's appearance.

The dorm party was at full force, meaning all the seats were already taken by either the stoners or the couples, and the freshman were already passed out drunk due to hard liquor. The rest of us who didn't qualify in either of those categories were mingling and drinking, and about half an hour ago I had been dared by Mason to do trust falls off the coffee table, and people were still trying to recreate the awesomeness of me falling into Mason's arms from so high up.

Liss had, however, not arrived with me an hour ago, but rather had gone on a mysterious detour as we left the apartment an hour and a half ago. Showing up now, she looked surprisingly fresh, with windblown hair and rosy cheeks. Her party outfit consisted of an intricately detailed, skimpy black top and tight pants.

"Sorry?" I half-yelled, unsure if the drinking had affected my hearing or if Lissa was being very quiet, "You did what?"

"I broke it off. With Aaron." She yelled this time, and I certainly heard it.

"Wait, what? You did? Why didn't you tell me you were going to do it?" I drag her by her arm into a more private corner of the room - away from the gyrating bodies - so we could talk. I didn't know how she would take this.

"Yeah, I did, and I'm fine. That just goes to show it really wasn't meant to be." She shrugged, looking miffed, but there were no symptoms of a new fall into depression for her. "I just… I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure I was actually going to do it until I stood on his doorstep, and I just got this horrible flash forward of what a boring, regular, _meaningless_ life we would have together. After that it was quite an easy decision for me, but he was pretty destroyed."

I choked her into a hug, and talked directly into her ear, "Hey, you guys were together for four years, you both have the right to be upset. It's gonna take some getting used to, to being single, but I'm so proud you did it. How do you wanna celebrate this new found freedom? We have a few options."

I pulled back from her, to hear her response.

"Why do you look so wicked, all of a sudden?"

"Wicked? Rose is looking wicked? We should all be running for a bunker." Mason slides up beside me, slinging an arm around my shoulder, alcohol forcing him to stumbling into me. Eddie appears at Lissa's elbow, pulling her into a welcoming hug.

"I'm simply planning Lissa's first night out single since she has turned twenty one." I say, and all of Mase and Eddie's attention swiftly turns towards Lissa in sympathy, as they both try to comfort her:

"Sucks, man-"

"You gotta do what you gotta do-"

"Kind of an asshole-"

"-in college, you have time to experience all sorts of-"

"You can do better-"

"Okay! Not to stop the two guys who have only ever had an intimate relationship with each other, to give break up advice, but we need to discuss our options," I say.

Mason and Eddie shut up, and Lissa mouthed 'thank you' to me, as she worked to control her flaming cheeks. They looked mildly offended that I had insulted their so-called 'bromance', but kept quiet. A drunk freshman elbowed me in the back.

"See, we can either go the boring route, which I'd totally respect, which would be to curl up with some Ben and Jerry's and binge watch the entire romantic Comedy section of Netflix. Or, there's the fun route, which consists of us leaving this lame party, and not remembering what happened after this tomorrow." I grinned, and Lissa looked frightened.

"I'm going to have to go for option C, and just stay at this party. We came to this 'lame' party for a reason, remember?" Lissa scans the crowd, and waves when she finds the person she's looking for. The rest of us all groan as we hear her stumbling up to our group.

"Lissa! Hi! Oh my God, I almost thought you wouldn't come, but Rose was here, so I was really confused for a moment." Natalie Dashkov, Lissa's cousin, gushed. She, in hopes of becoming _exactly_ like Lissa, followed us to the same university, and I have dreading every interaction with Natalie since she started freshman year this year. She just will _not_ leave us alone.

"When are you not confused, sweetheart?" I muttered. Luckily, only Mason managed to hear, who chuckled darkly in response.

"Hi Natalie," Lissa responded after a brief hug, "Thanks so much for inviting me, the party is awesome."

"You think so? Really? A lot of people have left already, and the alcohol is starting to run out, since, you know, I can't buy anymore…" Natalie blushed, but continued, "Could you come say hello to some of my friends? They've all heard so much of you, and they don't actually believe we're related…"

Natalie grabs Lissa by the arm to drag her to a group of swaying girls, and her rambling fades into the thumping music. Poor Lissa.

"Right in this moment, I'm happy I have no family obligations."

"Family obligations might suck, but family can be pretty cool. If you win the genetic lottery and get some cool relatives, like me." Mason boasts.

"Yes, you definitely won the genetic lottery, I mean look at that _hair_. Isn't being a ginger a genetic mutation?" I reply, causing Eddie to laugh.

"You got balls, Hathaway. Last time I insulted the hair, he told all the girls I was chatting up I had a tiny penis."

"Talk about winning _another_ genetic lottery."

Eddie looked offended as Mason and I giggled, which riled Eddie up so much that he started unbuckling his belt.

"I'm not arguing this, evidence should be good enough."

"Okay, fine, no! I believe you! Please keep it where it is!" I raised my arms in defeat, really not in the mood to see another penis. He stopped the process. "God, you're all so touchy about your genitalia! Now let's get back on topic."

"Being?" Mason raised an eyebrow.

"Which bar or club we are kidnapping Lissa to. It has to be a fun enough experience to make her forget the break up."

"Well, if we're focusing on her forgetting, I don't think it really matters where we go, as long as we pump her with enough alcohol." Mason says.

"Geez, we're talking about my best friend here, Mason, not your second-hand truck."

"Well, maintenance is about the same for girls and cars, right?" Mason smirks.

"And that, my friend, is why you are perpetually single." I joke, but the beat after I say it, I regret it.

Mase shuts up and smiles, and I realised just how awkward I made it. I look to Eddie for help to get out of the trouble my mouth got me into, but he would rather Mason and I talk out the romantic feeling Mason has for me, so he was no help. So, what I decided to do… was completely ignore it.

"Okay, so how are we feeling about Prodigy? That place is always fun… and packed with acceptable rebound guys for Liss."

Eddie and Mason simultaneously groan.

"We _always_ go there." Eddie complains.

"Right, that's why it's a classic. Plus, a new bartender just started there, who goes to one of my classes, so I think I can get us in for free."

They share a look, and then nod in sync, which is kind of creepy.

"Free is good. We can work with free." Eddie says. I try not to notice that Mason is being very quiet for his drunken state.

"Well, bottoms up!" I chug the rest of the stale beer, and snatch Eddie's cup to finish his too. Drinks in Prodigy were expensive, so I'd need all the buzz I can get.

"I'm going to go rescue Lissa; you guys stand ready to get out of here," I wink, and then walk up to Natalie and her crowd of friends, who were at this point assaulting Lissa with questions.

"-Like, do you have a personal tailor? How do all your clothes fit so nicely?"

"Natalie said-"

"Okay. Okay. Hi, guys." I intercept, taking Lissa's hand and shutting up the girls. "You said you needed more alcohol, right?"

I addressed this question to Natalie, who nodded enthusiastically, as did some of her friends.

"We'll get you some. We remember how hard it is to be a freshman. Do you have some change?"

The girls and Natalie all pulled some change out of their pockets, and then pressed the money into my hand with a chorus of 'thank you's and 'you rock's. _Damn, these chicks are loaded_ , I thought as I counted the money. The cash added up to thirty one dollars.

"Okay, we'll be back soon!" And with that exclamation I turned, and pranced out the door, Mason, Eddie and Lissa joining me.

"You're such an asshole, stealing from freshman." Eddie stated as he got out a liquor flask and took a shot. He passed it to Mason, who passed it to Lissa.

"What? We need the cab money." I say.

Before taking the shot, Lissa watched me skeptically, "If we're not going to buy alcohol, where are we going? And also, there is no way we're keeping that money."

"You'll see." I whispered cryptically, as we wait for the elevator to come. "This money could get us a cab _and_ a round of jaegerbombs!"

"Give." Lissa stretches out her hand, "I'm giving it back when I see her at the family dinner next week."

"Fine." I hand her the money with an eye roll. "But this means you're buying first round."

She sighs, defeated, as I wrap my arm around her shoulder to tug her towards the street.

"I really hope I won't regret this all too much tomorrow."

"You're telling me," Mason exclaims, "I have the five a.m. shift tomorrow. And I don't exactly see myself getting any sleep tonight."

"Ha! Finally it's not me! But it's fine, there's only one customer who actually comes in before six, and he's very low maintenance." I console, suddenly getting the customer on my mind again. Stupid Rose. You were doing so well _not_ thinking of him.

"You've met that guy too? The Russian? What a strange man. Also, his coat is ridiculous."

"I don't know, it kind of works for him. The hair does too." I avoid eye contact with Mase when I realise what I said.

"Oh. It's Russia guy?" Lissa lights up at recognising who I was talking about. Since I mentioned Dimitri for the very first time, when I asked her about the timezones in Russia, she has been very attentive at picking up the details surrounding him, and although I have always tried to avoid mentioning him, I sometimes slip up in conversations with Liss. She has, however, still not been able to trick his name out of me, so she always refers to him as some variation of 'Russian guy'.

"Oh, he's come up before?" Mason asked, eyes surprisingly sober as they flit between me and Lissa.

"Once or twice. So far he's been an enigma to me, so I'm relieved to see Rose isn't just hallucinating him."

"Oh, shut up," We make it out into the cold, and I start hailing a cab, which I always had had an uncanny ability to do. Not less than a minute later, one pulled up to the curb. "He helped me study for a psych test once. That's it, nothing more. Now it's time to drink and not remember this conversation _at all_ tomorrow."

—

My wheezing breath fogs up the pre-dawn air, and I continue to race to the doors of the coffee shop. I barely look left and right before running over the two lane street, hectically checking my phone, hoping time would just _please_ pass slower. It was already five thirty five, marking how absurdly late I was. Stan would demand my first born over this fuck up.

My thighs breath a sigh of relief as I see the shop up close now, but I caught the sight of Stan doing the job I should be doing though the window, looking extraordinarily pissed while doing it, made me push my thighs a little harder. No matter how much I complained, I really needed this job.

I was so focused on Stan, that when I reached the door, I jumped with shock as hand, other than mine, also made contact with the door handle. I looked up to see Dimitri, who was also just arriving, from the opposite direction of me.

"Hi," I say.

"Hello," he replies. He, too, was surprised at my presence outside, rather than in the café, but went to grab the door and held it open for me. The bells of the door snapped me out of the shock, and I slipped in with a brief smile and a 'thank you' for Dimitri.

When Stan looked up from the coffee machine, the murderous tendency I often joked about boiled deep within his eyes. I really had to learn to set my alarm _before_ I pass out while watching tv series on my laptop. I knew I looked like a mess, having had less than two minutes to rush out the door this morning; I hadn't even had time to tie up my hair.

"I'll see you in my office, Miss Hathaway." He said, menacingly, before turning and addressing Dimitri in his 'customer voice', "She will be at your service in only a few minutes, Sir."

Then, he stalked into his office.

I looked to my side, where Dimitri now stood, observing me. He gave me an encouraging nod.

"It'll be fine."

"I highly doubt that," I sigh, before reluctantly walking into Stan's cramped office. I felt Dimitri's eyes on the back of my head.

Shutting the door gently, I took a deep breath to steady myself and my still pounding heart, before looking in Stan's eyes. Yet, he had gotten to the stage of anger where he became completely detached of everything, so his face was now a void. Oh no. Not good. Abort mission, abort mission-

"I have just come up with a new policy I will be implementing, effective immediately. Although I know that this whole business is a joke to you, Hathaway, would you care to guess what exactly this policy might be?"

What in the fuck was he talking about? Policies?

"Um, not to be late?"

"No, Rosemarie. That policy has already been in place, and anyone with a decent work ethic has been following it for centuries."

"Look, I'm really sorry-"

"That policy," Stan just raised his voice over mine, as if he was holding a lecture with an obstinate student, "is, however, not affecting your chronic tardiness. So, now I will be introducing, the three strike rule."

I stared at him blankly. I know Stan is an avid baseball fan, but I know absolutely nothing about the boring sport. I only do basketball, or occasional volleyball.

"Is this about baseball, or…?"

He sighed, "No. You get three fuck ups. You, today, have done us the honours of getting your first strike. Two more, and you're out. It's as simple as that."

"Okay." I couldn't let his see how much this new rule system actually scared me. As much as I groaned about work and the hours, Stan was normally a lenient boss, and since this was a college city, it would be quite hard to get a new job that needs no more experience than a high school diploma.

"Okay. Now get out of my sight. Oh, and Rose? I'm pulling an hour of your wage."

I bowed my head and walked out, very unlike me. I wanted to shout, argue, plead my case. I don't go down without a fight. But, I couldn't afford to piss him off more, and my pay check is one of the only dependable things in my life right now.

I walk out, slightly shocked at Dimitri, already sitting in the corner with his book. I had forgotten him in the rush of it all. When he noticed I was back, he got up and walked to the counter, but I turned my back on him to make his coffee. I didn't want to see him right now. I need to gather myself up again. I wanted him to only see the Rose I had built my persona around: strong, confident, reckless.

"So, it went badly, huh?" He said, when I turned around with the coffee.

"As badly as expected. An hour of my pay is gone, and if I fuck up twice more, I'm fired." I looked at the till as I tipped in his order, taking longer than necessary so I didn't have to meet his eyes.

"Well, it's a little harsh, but it's not an unreasonable punishment. You were forty minutes late."

That made me meet his eyes. Dimitri was a tough love kind of guy, and there was gonna be no coddling from him. Somehow, unexplainably, that made me feel better.

"It was only thirty seven and a half minutes. Don't over exaggerate."

He handed me the cash, but his focus was else where. Since I ran passed him a few minutes ago, his attention has been very much aimed on the sides of my face, rather than my actual face. He looked almost dazed, and since he didn't reply to me, I could tell something was up.

"Um, why are you looking at me like that? Are you sick or something?"

Dimitri snapped out of his daze, accepting the change - which he dropped in the tips jar - and the coffee, while looking everywhere but at me. If I didn't know better, I'd say Dimitri was embarrassed.

"It's- it's nothing. I just realised, that um… I've never actually seen you with your hair down. You have… very nice hair."

"Oh."

There was a silence as I ran a hand through my hair, an action Dimitri watched closely. I flushed, loving the feeling of his eyes on me, and his slightly nervous appearance lead me to believe he wasn't completely unaffected to my approaches after all.

"Well," I countered, "Thank you. I shampoo _and_ condition it. All by myself."

I cringe at the horrible joke. I just really know how to ruin a mood. I must seem like an utter idiot to him.

"Better get to working now, though. I'd be sad to see you fired from this place. The red head that sometimes opens up in the morning doesn't insult me as much as you do."

"Damn, I guess I need to tell Mason to step up his insults. We can't have you growing too cosy around here."

He smiles, albeit somewhat shyly, which manages to make this shitty day just a slight bit less shitty.

"See you, Rose." And with that he left, leaving me to my chores. I did, however, continue to absentmindedly run my hands through my hair the rest of the day, sometimes even wondering what it would be like to have him do it.

—

"Hello?"

"Hey Rose! It's me. Lissa."

"Um, hey Liss. Why are you calling me? You do know it's the twenty first century. We have text now."

"Says the girl who takes hours to respond to texts. Where are you?"

"Just got out of basketball practice. I'm walking home now."

"Not taking the train?"

"Nah, I wouldn't do that to the people on the train. I smell so bad. I'm not _that_ cruel."

"Ew. Okay, well, I just checked the fridge and realised we can either choose to eat soggy lasagne or expired microwave pizza for dinner. I didn't even realize microwave food had expiration dates, you know, with all those preservatives."

"That date is just an alibi for the company. So, you want me to pick up some Indian?"

"I was actually thinking about trying out that new Thai place."

"Oh yeah! It's only a small detour from here for me."

"Thanks so much Rose. I'd pick some up myself, but you know…"

"I still cannot believe you got black out drunk and _only_ lost your drivers license."

"Don't mock me! This is all your fault anyway."

"I'm not mocking you, I'm seriously impressed. I have managed to lose a purse, a shoe and a bra in one night. Only losing a drivers license, not even the whole wallet, is a talent."

"The only reason I didn't lose more is because Eddie was following me around all night to make sure I wouldn't start dancing on tables again and break my neck."

"Okay, now I'll mock you. That was fucking hilarious! I didn't even know you can macarena to a techno song."

"Stop! Don't remind me… Rose?"

"Mmh? What did you say?"

"Why are you whispering? What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just…"

"What?"

"You know how I sometimes feel like I am being followed…"

"Oh God. You're feeling that now?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, come straight home, we will eat the probably not expired pizza."

"No, no. I'm excited for the Thai now. You know I've just been super paranoid since we moved here."

"Yeah, which I get, but it's been two years. This feeling should have subsided by now."

"I know, I know- It's fine though. The feelings gone already."

"That reminds me, your mother called me again. Could you please just give her your new phone number already."

"How did my paranoia remind you of my mom? You know how I get when people compare us."

"That's not what I meant. I don't know why I just remembered that. Now please, just call her."

"I'll consider it."

"Rose!"

"What? Everyone always talks about what an amazing detective she is. If she put enough effort into contacting me, she could. All she wants to know anyways is where I live."

"You still haven't told her? You promised me you would."

"Why are you always on her side? She's the one who fucked me over. Not the other way round."

"Yes, and I detested her as much as you in high school. But she's been trying to make amends, and you hold awfully long grudges."

"My grudges are just the right length, thank you very much… Hey, don't sigh at me."

"Next time your mom calls, I'll tell her which state we're in. Then she'll definitely be able to track you down."

"As long as you don't tell her which city."

"Then we have a deal. Now hurry up and get your sweaty butt home, I'm starving and I have more gossip on Mia."

"Tell!"

"No, this is face to face gossip."

"Fine, I can already see the Thai place. I'll be home in thirty minutes."

"See ya!"

"Bye!"

—

" _The leaves turn to branches, the branches to trees, the trees morph into the forest in which I lost myself…"_

I so rarely have night shifts at the coffee shop, that I nearly managed to forget it also hosts weekly slam poetry nights. And since Stan is too prudent to get a liquor license, the whole evening is sans alcohol. So, when Mason finally decided that being the most stereotypical broke barista wasn't enough, he decided he was also going to try out the cliche of being a slam poet.

"Pass it over," Eddie hissed. Naturally, to get through the night, Eddie and I continually passed a flask between us. "Also, stop laughing. We're getting looks."

The couple at the table next to us was giving me a particularly mean look.

" _…I was spiralling, round and round and round, down a drain, until I could taste the dirt at the back of my mouth…_ "

"I can't help it man. He's just describing nature, and talking about being drunk. How many times has he said 'flowers' and 'intoxication' already?"

"We're being supportive friends. That's why he asked us to come. Now be supportive." Eddie never wavered, keeping a straight face, his eyes focused on the stage where Mason was performing, swaying his body from side to side to the rhythm of the poem. You had to give Mason credit for the dedication.

"I still can't believe I'm at work on my day off."

" _…The forest is eradicated, burned like a witch at a stake, pleading its innocence. The trees lose their pride, the branches sag, the leaf floats to the ground with a deafening roar…_ "

"I can't believe I actually paid an entrance fee for this. And where did all the hipsters come from? This isn't the right part of town for them." Eddie questions, quietly enough not to cause attention.

"They all magically appear here on slam nights. Serving them is the worst, we always run out of soy milk on those nights," - I snicker at something Mason says again - "Okay, seriously, what is up with this nature theme Mason has going? I mean, I know he loves hiking, but come on."

Eddie gives me a knowing, if slightly annoyed look. "You don't get it? It's not like he's making it subtle. How he's 'intoxicated' with a 'flower'?"

" _It all crashes down around me, and what I'm left with, is the flower._ "

"Oh." I say, dumbfounded. Mason had always been a lot subtler. Looks like he's given that up.

"Must be nice, to have the whole world revolve around you." Eddie states, annoyance ringing through clearly. Before I could reply, though, everyone started applauding, some even stomping their feet. Through all the pretentious bullshit, Mason's enthusiasm in the poem managed to make it a hit.

Mason took his time in the limelight, bowing to the audience and soaking up the applause. In the end, Stan had to practically force him off the stage with a shove. Mason strode towards us, grin stretching impossibly wide.

When he reached us, Eddie wrapped his arm around his shoulder and patted him on the back.

"Dude, you were awesome. Did you hear how much they loved you? You should do this more often."

"Thank you! Yeah, I'll definitely try it again. Try to incorporate my body more into it."

"Yeah, it was real cool. I loved the whole dying forest vibe I got." I chimed in. Maybe if I still pretended that I didn't get the flower metaphor, we wouldn't need to discuss it?

"Thanks, Rose, but I could hear your laughing all the way on the stage. Real subtle." Mase punched me in the arm, a punishment I definitely deserved.

"I'm sorry! I can't control it, I have an genetic hatred towards slam poetry. You can't fight your genes."

"Laugh all you want, I got an amazing response. I have a great stage presence, no one can deny me that. Try and do better." Mason boasted.

"Oh? Is that a dare?" I challenge.

Mason raised his eyebrows. "Of course it is. I'm always up for you embarrassing yourself."

"Please, I'd rock that stage. Just looking like this," - I wave my hands up and down my body - "Will get me the same amount of applause like you."

"Fine. We'll test it. You get three weeks from today." Mason says, glee twinkling in his eye.

"So much time?"

"Yea, I know it'll take a long time to convince Lissa to write it for you."

"Hey! I'll do fine by myse-"

Eddie cut me off, "Let's not focus on that, let's focus on how awesome your performance was. Come on, I'll buy you whatever none alcoholic beverage you want to celebrate, and then Rose can spike it for you."

Eddie, who's arm was still around Mason's shoulder, lead him away, shooting me an exasperated look over his shoulder. Oh. Maybe I do make a lot of things revolve around myself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Next chapter will have a lot more Rose and Dimitri interaction, I just felt like I needed to flesh out Rose's life outside of Dimitri :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello people! Sorry for the long wait, and a chapter shorter than usual, but it's definitely not a filler chapter! Enjoy and tell me what you think!**

Wednesday mornings were always hectic, for an unexplainable reason. They just were. I expected this. Customer after customer streamed in, ordering their choice of weirdly named coffees, like tidals waves. In the few breaks I had to breath, Mason and I did a furious job of cleaning up after the customers.

What I hadn't expected from this busy, cold Wednesday morning, was to be yelled at by a… customer?

"Hello, what can I do for you?" The queue behind my customer was starting to build up again, so I tried to make the transaction as smooth and efficient as possible. I repeated the question to the man, still preoccupied with the large order of the previous customer.

When I didn't get a response, I looked up, to see what this customers deal was. I was not expecting to see a familiar face.

"Aaron."

He looked pissed, to say the least. His hair, normally brushed so impeccably, was greasy and messy, and he was wearing his designer shirt inside out. His eyes were bloodshot, trained solely on me, and his fingers clenched so tightly, I was surprised his knuckles weren't breaking through the skin.

"Hi, Aaron." I made my smile as sweet as possible, and greeted him more friendly than I ever have. "What would you like to drink?"

"Don't bullshit me." He seethed.

I was shocked. Aaron, although oblivious and kind of naïve, has always been a sweet boy who just got mixed up with the wrong kind of people.

"I'm at work. If you want to talk to me, you're going to have to wait until I'm off in about two hours, okay?" I maintained steady eye contact to show him I was serious. I needed to be on good behaviour with Stan's new three strike rule.

"Can I help the next customer-" I called, before Aaron interrupted.

"No." He stood solid as a rock due to all the tension in his body. "We're talking now. Take a break."

"I don't get a break." I shot back.

"Well, just answer a simple question for me, and I'll leave."

"Let me hear it then." I snapped.

"Why would you manipulate Lissa into breaking up with me?" He asked. I started laughing, thinking there is no way he could be serious.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. I could see the customers in the queue were getting annoyed at the wait.

"I know you made Lissa do it. Break up with me. She even _told_ me that you talked to her about it. So why did you do it?"

"Aaron, you are seriously out of line right now-"

"Are you jealous? Is that it? You couldn't land yourself a decent boyfriend, who wouldn't cheat on you or had an alcohol problem, so you had to ruin it for us? You're such a bitch, Rose."

"Are you high, dude? What the fuck is your problem-" He cut me off again.

"Or are you actually into Lissa, like everyone's always said?" The coffee shop got very quiet as Aaron continued to spew nonsense very loudly. Mason stopped making coffee, and stood behind me as I tried my best to make Aaron shut the fuck up. "Is it a case of 'if I can't have her, no one can?' Because that's even more fucked up, and makes you an even bigger asshole."

"Lissa is her own person and made her own choice. You need to respect that and leave me out of this."

"Dude, seriously, get out of here before I call the police-" Mason also got cut off as Aaron started raising his voice even more.

"Or are you just a straight up psychopath, who cannot mind her own _goddamn_ business? Is that it, _Rose_? You enjoy the pain and suffering of other people? Because that would explain a lot about you-"

"Leave, right now, you absolute asshole." I growl.

"Like the bar fights, and all the times Lissa has had to bail you out. You leech off of her, and now you're cutting off her contact to other people. Pretty sure that's a sign of an abusive relationship, and Lissa is just too weak to stand up for herself-"

"Hey! You're the weak one here, making a scene _at my workplace_ about a relationship that she hasn't been invested in in years. You-"

At this point, we were yelling at each other, and Mason was on the phone, probably calling the police. In the corner of my eye, I saw Stan coming out of his office.

"-Such a whore, Rose. You can't keep your legs closed for anyone, jumping from bed to bed. You're probably a walking STD at this point. You infect everything you touch, and Lissa probably-"

My face burned with humiliation as I resisted the urge to reach over the counter and strangle Aaron. Assault of a customer would not look too good on a resume, one I will definitely need after this.

A man broke out of the large queue of spectators to face Aaron. "If you're not going to get anything, could you leave the workers alone and let us all get our coffee?"

Oh. My. God. This could not be happening. I would recognise that voice anywhere.

"Not until she answers my question." Aaron fumes.

"She doesn't owe you anything." Dimitri responds, crossing his arms to look even more intimidating than he already does.

Aaron opening his mouth to say something, but in that moment Mason quipped that the police was two minutes away, and Aaron just deflated. The anger and hate rushed out of him, replaced with fear of Dimitri's size and the reality of the police showing up.

"I'll leave." He says, before slinking out of the door before he could get into serious trouble. Mason put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.

But as Stan approached me and started dragging me away from the counter, towards the storefront, I could see there was not way I could avoid the trouble.

Once we were outside, far enough away from the windows that the customers couldn't see us, it was Stan's turn to lay into me.

"I'll give you one chance the explain." Stan had his eyes shut tightly, as if he was wishing a headache away. I was baffled. What was I supposed to explain? That Aaron had a minor breakdown?

"I- I don't really, um… Well, Aaron used to date my best friend Lissa, right, and then she broke up with-"

"I do not have time for this silly gossip. Do you think any of the customers in there will return after seeing that?"

Stan continued to rant, going on and on about what this kind of scene would cost the coffee shop. And while I knew my mind should be focused, the fleeting thought of Dimitri crossed my mind. What would he be thinking of me now?

"-He was saying you have an STD, Hathaway! Do you? No customer wants their coffee to be made by someone like that."

"I'm pretty sure it's illegal to ask about my medical history, Stan, but thanks for the concern."

Oh fuck. Why can't I control my mouth? I saw the switch in his expression the moment I talked back.

"Well, whether you're sick or not, we now have to pay the repercussion for whatever drama you have in your personal life." Stan says, running a hand roughly through his hair.

"It's not like I can control-"

"I don't care what you can and can't control. All I care about is you keeping your personal and professional life separate."

I looked at the tip of my shoes, trying to feign embarrassment. I was livid, and I knew the moment I made eye contact with Stan, I'd explode.

"Whatever, Rose. Your shifts done, I'll take over. No one will want coffee from you." I flinched at the intonations in his words. "This is strike two. Be careful."

And on that ominous note, Stan charged by me, slamming me forcefully with his shoulder. Douchebag.

I couldn't face anyone in that shop, so going back in to get my personal belongings would have to wait at least an hour. I looked around the busy street, the autumn sun crowding the sidewalks with people more than usual. I walked at a brisk pace down the street, avoiding eye contact and replaying the recent half hour over and over in my head. After a few minutes, I found an empty bench in the sunlight, which I sat down on. I sat facing a Chinese restaurant, with the mandatory Mandarin scripture and plucked geese hanging by their necks in the window, displayed proudly to passersby. That was exactly how I was feeling, completely naked in a display window. But as horrible as I felt right in this moment, a tiny part of me was relieved he did this to me rather than Lissa.

"Hey." My internal condemnation of Aaron got interrupted, and for some reason I wasn't too shocked when I saw Dimitri hesitantly sit down next to me, staring ahead, just like me.

"Are you cold? Where's your jacket?"

"At the store."

"Do you want mine?"

"No."

I saw his nod in my peripheral vision, and then the questions stopped. We sat in silence; I was trying to drown out my thoughts with the chaos happening inside the Chinese restaurant. I don't know what was happening in his head. Wasn't he busy? We sat there for quite a few minutes. Right before I made up my mind to finally ask him why he was here, he spoke up.

"Are you okay?" He asked, tentatively.

"No," I turned to him, seeing he was already looking at me. "I just got publicly humiliated in a crowded store, with claims that are barely true, and then my boss kicked me off my shift as if I were some dirty whore who really can give you chlamydia through coffee. And somehow you were there to witness it. At this rate you're gonna see all the most embarrassing moments of my life. I have an advisor meeting next week, do you wanna attend that too? She's gonna hand me my ass there too, so you shouldn't miss it."

After I was done saying it, I cringed. Not only was I being very sardonic, I was also giving him unnecessary information. I pulled my eyes back to the restaurant and started fidgeting with my bracelet.

"I'm really sorry that happened. Friends turning their backs on you is one of the worst betrayals." Dimitri gaze was still on me, but I couldn't make eye contact.

"We weren't even friends, not really. I think… I tolerated him, while he always tried to get in my good graces. But really, I don't get why their break up would result in this."

"He seemed to still be in denial about the break up. Accusing you of manipulating your friend in turn makes you the scapegoat he can take his anger out on, instead of talking about his actual feeling to your friend."

I shook my head. "It's so fucked up. He never got angry _once_ in the last four years. I honestly thought he didn't have the capacity for it."

"Sounds like he had a lot of anger built up, then. You're tough. He probably thought it wouldn't be as bad to take it all out on you." Dimitri caught some strands of his hair that were billowing in the wind and hooked them behind his ear.

"Whatever. I don't care. _I don't care_." I say in frustration.

"You obviously do," He says, a smile pulling at his lips. God damn him. I wanted to be angry at him, angry at Aaron and the world, but I couldn't do it. Just his smile seemed to stabilise me and my mood. I reached up to pull my hair tie out of my own hair, to relieve some of the tension in my body.

"Let's talk about something else, now that I'm off hours." I flashed him a grin, building up my persona again as I shook out my hair.

"Hmm?" Dimitri asked, clearly distracted. I had forgotten Dimitri's compliment about my hair, and seeing his mind obviously wander at the sight of it gave me a real confidence boost. I was proud of my thick hair, and happy Dimitri was fond of it too.

"What are you doing here so late in the morning today? It's weird seeing you in sunlight. I thought you only existed at night." I say, straightening out my shirt.

"Was that supposed to be a vampire joke? Because if it was, it was a poorly executed one." He replies, and I swear that my eyes were not playing tricks on me, but that his leg moved closer to mine, so only an inch was left between our knees.

"Are you avoiding my question? Because if you are, it was a poorly executed tactic." In retaliation of his leg move, I decided it seemed more natural to move my entire leg, so I pulled my foot up and hooked it under my other thigh, so that my knee was gently resting against his thigh. This gave him even more space to lean in, if that were the case.

If he recognised what I was doing, he didn't acknowledge it.

"Well, you aren't the only one having a bad day at work." He stretched out, and tilted his face so that he was soaking up as much sun as possible. God, he was so beautiful, even more in the sun. I averted my gaze quickly before he noticed it.

"Oh? Do tell."

He sighed before replying, "It's been very busy lately, due to the recent case we're defending, which I don't mind."

"Yeah, you haven't been around as much. I've noticed." As soon as I said it, I heard the implication, as did he. He raised his eyebrow, but continued after a lull.

"I don't mind the work, or working extra, but the firm has cut overtime, which is basically all I work right now, so I have to put in more hours at the gym teaching, which is exhausting."

"Assholes. What absolute shitheads. The CEO of your firm could probably afford to buy a small state, but they decide to cut overtime just so they can save up to buy a big one instead. Like Texas." I reasoned.

"I mean, that might not be their exact line of logic, but yeah. And it wouldn't even be bad if I was just supporting myself-"

Oh no. Here it was. Who else was he supporting? I naively thought he was single, because of him not wearing a wedding ring, but that never proves anything. Who was he supporting? A wife? A husband? A child? Four children?

"-but my family back home has always needed the extra support, and now my sister is pregnant so she needs it more than ever."

It shocked me how relieved that statement made. I shifted even closed to him.

"That's so nice of you. Helping her out like that."

"It's not about being nice. It's about family. They come first, for me." There was no hesitation, no sugarcoating.

At that, I didn't know how to respond. My family situation was a topic I had skilfully learned to avoid in conversation; an unhealthy coping mechanism, as Lissa calls it. But Lissa only got a B in psychology, and was apparently dating a guy with some serious anger issues, so I won't let her diagnose me.

"What state would you buy?" It was the first thought that came to mind that didn't happen to be about family.

He raised his eyebrow, and look at me intensely. It was as if he were searching for something, some clue about why I was so obviously avoiding the topic. He scanned me, from my eyes, down my nose to my lips and back up. I felt like I was being interrogated by his gaze. Finally, it seemed like he was going to let me avoid the topic, and answered my question with a suppressed smile.

"Alaska. And then return it back to its rightful owner: Russia."

I sputtered, not expecting that answer. Then I full out laughed, the built up tension from today escaping along with it. His shoulders were shaking lightly too, and I had to admit: his grin was absolutely breath taking.

"Easy there, cowboy. Your imperialism is showing."

"What about you? You got a better answer?"

"No. But I do know I'd name myself Queen of whatever state I'd buy, and then I'd ban Stan and Aaron and everyone annoying from ever entering it. I'd also make sure stores are only allowed to open after ten o'clock and that workers get a lot of money and never get yelled at."

"Well, it'll be sad not to see you make my coffee anymore, but I see governing a socialist state is your true calling."

"Yes. I will only answer to 'Your Majesty' from now on."

He smiled at me and did a half hearted, mock bow, to which I blew his a sarcastic kiss. His fingers flitted up to stroke a piece of hair out of my face, one I hadn't even noticed, but the brush of his fingers on my skin left my nerves going haywire. It happened so fast that I don't even think he fully registered the movement.

"How did it go on that test, by the way?" Look who's the one avoiding a topic now. But since he relented to my question instead of honing in on the topic, I decided to be generous as well.

"Fine, actually. I think going over those flashcards really helped. I'm on my way to not completely failing this year, which is good. But now that you brought up school, I should really get going and study. I've avoided all my homework long enough."

"Yeah, I should be getting back to my own work too." He stood up and stretched, exaggerating his height even more. I stood too, remembering his late appearance.

"You never answered my question properly. Why were you here so late today?" I asked again.

He looked away, at the bustling Chinese restaurant, lingering on not answering, until he turned to me, resolute, and answered, "It always makes me happy to come to your coffee shop."

I saw the sincerity in his eyes, the solemnity of the statement, and I heard the ' _to see you'_ float silently, unmentioned between the two of us.

"I can't speak for the coffee shop, but it definitely makes me happy when I see you. Even at five A.M." I say, keeping my eyes locked on his. I do not know what made me so bold in that moment, but I didn't regret it when he reciprocated my smile. We stood there for a second, smiling like idiots, before I left to get my belongings and then get home, and he walked the opposite direction.

I realized I was still smiling after getting some funny looks from a few strangers on the street. This triggered an epiphany that hit me like a bomb: I had a crush on Dimitri. A guy I knew next to nothing about, other than the stuff he hinted at.

Great. I guess I won't be getting a lot of studying done after all.

* * *

I slammed the front door being me and dropped my keys in the bowl.

"Hey Liss, shit went down at work toda— Um, what are you doing?"

I entered the living room in hopes of enlightening her about her ex, but Lissa looked very disinterested in me. She lay sprawled across the couch, with her phone so close to her face I really doubted that she had perfect vision.

"Tinder." She answered, not looking up, before humming in appreciation at her phone.

"You downloaded Tinder. No fucking way!" I exclaimed, giddy. "You're really taking the bull by the horns on this break up. Let me see!"

I pushed her aside so I could glance at the phone and watch her swipe away a bunch of guys. When she matched with a new guy, who immediately wrote her a message, I say, "Don't reply, too desperate."

"But he's cute, don't you think?"

When she went to check her messages, I nearly fell of the couch.

"Thirty four matches? Lissa, how long have you had this app and how did I not know about it?"

"About… four hours. I got it right after I got back from class." She shrugged, while going back to swiping guys.

"I have never met anyone who takes the app this seriously."

At this, she hesitates, before closing her phone and cuddling up to me. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. "I don't know how to be single, Rose. I haven't been single since sixteen! That's five years! I don't know how it works and how to act, I never really learnt how to do it."

"You're overthinking it, like you overthink everything."

"No, I'm not. I've been on Tinder for not even a day to try and figure it out, and I just don't know how to talk to these guys. I've freaked out and even blocked a few."

"Tinder isn't the real world, Liss. Remember when I downloaded it as a joke? Most guys on there just want to bang. But when it comes to real guys in the real world, I don't think you realize how charismatic you are with them. You flirt without realising it. All those times you've gotten free drinks at the bar wasn't because the people there were super nice. You were sending signals without realizing it."

She was silent, processing what I was saying, so I jumped in with my final remark.

"All it takes is a little practice, and you'll be stealing the spotlight from every other female in the vicinity." I nudge her shoulder playfully.

She scoffed, "As if I could ever steal that spotlight from you. But… I actually already set up a date. With this guy."

She opened her Tinder to show me a picture of a sweet looking Asian guy, around four years older than her.

"That's so exciting! He looks cute."

"I'm nervous." Lissa fidgeted with a strand of her hair, "You need to coach me on this, okay? Also, he said I could choose the place, so where is a good first date setting? And you have to be available that night, so that I can always call."

"Take a breath; we will work this out. I'll help with the location, and with what to wear, and I'll even dress up and track the date from a few tables away." She follows my instruction and visibly blows air out through her mouth, before smiling at my comment. Then, her eyes widened.

"Oh! What was it you were going to say? About shit going down at work? I completely made it about me."

Crap. I'd hoped she'd forgotten that. While I had been one hundred percent ready to bitch about Aaron when I first arrived home, I was now not so willing anymore. Lissa was happy, and nervous and every other emotion under the sun right now, and I didn't want to hinder her progress by reminding her of her ex. I can take the beating he gave me if it meant he left her alone. She was kicking this break up in the balls and moving on with her life, something I've wanted to see her do in a long time, so I just could not let her agonize about how Aaron has changed and how I had to suffer because of her.

"Oh yeah. I got my second strike." I might as well stick as close to the truth as possible.

"What? What happened?" Lissa sat up straighter.

"I mixed up a rather big order, and the customer - some soccer mom - just blew up at me for it, calling me all sorts of names. And you know me, I have zero impulse control and it had been so stressful today, so I snapped back. Stan heard me, obviously, and then he gave me the second strike."

"I'm so sorry! I've seen how rude some of your customers are. You really don't deserve that treatment, and you don't deserve Stan to punish you for it. He needs to protect you guys more."

"Yeah, but let's not talk about that. Let's talk about how you're gonna have your first one night stand with that hottie soon." I grinned impishly, and Lissa's cheeks grew red just at the thought.

"Rose!"


	4. Chapter 4

**While the first part of the chapter is mainly exposition, I had a lot of fun writing the second part of this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it too! Thank you all so much for the reviews and feedback, it is much appreciated! Without further ado, here's the next chapter.**

The shrill whistle cut through the air, signalling the end of the game and that practice was over, just as the ball bounced on the hoop… and fell off to the wrong side of the net. The opposite team cheered, some slapping each other on the back in congratulation, and others trying to wrestle themselves out of the perpetually moist, yellow vests.

"Congratulation, ladies of team yellow! Next practice you get to choose what drill the losers have to warm up to! Now hit the showers, and when you're all out I have a short announcement to make." Coach Alberta called.

I stood at the three point line, my legs rooted there. Disappointment washed over me that my shot hadn't made it. My teammates didn't take it to heart, most already grabbing their bags and heading to the locker room, giggling as they went. Two players, one in a yellow vest and one without, stayed behind and walked towards me.

"Did you see Meredith today? I know she was on your team, but she was playing even more dirty than usual. That trip could've landed Camille in the ER! And she was totally travelling with the ball. How does Alberta manage to see all fouls, except Meredith's?" Jill rambled, dragging the stinky yellow vest over her head. Her neck glistened with sweat. While my heartbeat was slowing down from the game, I could feel my own cheeks flushed and my shirt damp.

"Nepotism. Meredith's a family friend of Alberta's." Sydney rolled her eyes at our coach, the idea of preferential treatment to family members a foreign concept to her. "And what was going on with you? I set up so many good shots for you, and you only landed like two of them." Sydney now focused her accusations at me, eyes sharp.

Since I was little, I had always been very invested in team sports, hopping from sport to sport. From tennis to softball to rugby… Once, I convinced Lissa to go swimming with me, which lasted about four months before I decided handball was actually the sport for me, and Lissa decided to just eat healthy and avoid unnecessary exercise. Jill, Sydney and I were members of an under twenty-five women's basketball team at a local sport's club, a team that meets twice a week for two hours. I joined here two years ago, first spending half a year playing volleyball, before realising that basketball was my true calling. Basketball had actually fascinated me for a year and a half now, which was quite rare.

When I switched to basketball, Jill, Sydney and I became an unlikely trio. Jill pulls down the average age of the team, by being seventeen and being the only member who is still in high school. Technically she shouldn't even be able to join this team, but since she was bullied out of the team at her high school for no legitimate reason other than teenagers being cruel, we decided to adopted her into our group.

While it was easy to be charmed by Jill's good nature, Sydney took a while to warm up to. She had quite the hostile attitude at the beginning, and still now held Jill and I at an arms length, but we had managed to see past the scowling face. From the very limited amount of information Sydney gave us about her family, I could tell they were controlling and pretty much dictating all her choices. Basketball was one of the few instances she could let loose. She was the mastermind behind the tactics we usually played, making her an assets of our team.

They weren't the type of girls I normally hung out with - Jill was still in high school, Sydney was a Church nut - but here we were.

"I'm just distracted today, I guess." I shrugged, as I finally moved and sluggishly made my way to the locker room for a nice shower.

"Why? You seemed to be thinking hard during the drills." Jill matched my stride to link her arm through mine.

"Believe it or not, I was trying to compose a poem in my head throughout all of practice."

This earned me raised eyebrows from both of them.

"So what, you want to fight Juan Felipe Herrera for his title?" Sydney asked.

"Who?" I questioned.

"America's current Poet Laureate."

"America's what?"

"Nevermind," Sydney huffed. When I looked over at Jill, she seemed just as clueless about what Sydney just said.

"Anyways," I continued, "I have to write a Slam poem, because I'm an absolute junkie for challenges. My friend said I couldn't do a better job than him, I said I could, blah blah. When I accepted the challenge, I seriously thought I'd be able to talk someone into writing it. Turns out, I can't even bribe anyone into doing it for me, so I'm fucked."

"Writing it yourself never crossed your mind?" Syd said. At this stage we were getting undressed for the showers - well, Jill and I were. Sydney never undressed in front of any of us, always changing in the toilets and washing her dressed body with a wet cloth.

"Nope. I've never had an artistic bone in my body."

"What?" Jill seemed offended. "Everyone has art in them. We just all use different forms to express them. Maybe poetry isn't your form of expressing it, but I don't believe there isn't another medium where you can let it out."

I grinned at Jill. She was so cute when she was standing up for something, and I knew art was important to her. Actually, she reminded me a little of Lissa. "Is fighting an art form?"

"Yes," Sydney answered, over her shoulder. "But I don't really see you having enough self control to perform Tai Chi."

"I was thinking more along the lines of Jiu-Jitsu for me. But first, I have to wrestle with this stupid poem."

The conversation was put on hold as Jill and I hit the showers. The weak jets of the collectives shower hit my back and washed away the grime as Jill continued to natter at me about this annoying teacher she had. God, every time she talked about high school I became more glad I was no longer in it.

When we got out after a thorough round of shampooing, Sydney was already dressed and had pulled out a book on Chemistry. She looked up as I started complaining about the poem again.

"And I just don't know what to write it about. I've looked online, and most people talk about some life changing experience or their families. There's no way on earth I'm going to discuss my mommy issues with a full room of strangers, and other than that the only other intense life experience I had was the car crash, which I definitely can't talk about."

"You were in a car crash?" Jill looked panicked, and grabbed me by the wrist to give me a once over. Her raised voice called attention to our conversation, and I knew that it had piqued the interest of some of the other girls too, who would now be listening in.

"Yeah- Relax Jill." Her muscles were still tensed from the revelation. "This was five years ago. Have you never wondered where this scar was from?"

I move side ways, the give her a clear view of the massive scar that ran along the side of my right thigh. It was raised and discoloured against my normally tanned skin, a battle scar that occurred when Eric Dragomir got startled by a deer on the road and slammed us all into a tree, taking his life as well as the lives of his wife and son. I can never think about the crash without getting a metallic taste in my mouth. Shaking my head, I focused back on Jill.

"Oh, it looks more like a burn, so I always assumed you spilled something or…" Jill seemed lost for words, and kind of embarrassed at her assumption.

"Fair enough. But yeah, it was the crash. It killed my best friends family." Both Sydney and Jill looked concerned at that confession. "Which is why I can't write a poem about it, because Lissa will be there when I perform it, and if I talk about the Dragomir's… I would rather not upset her like that."

Jill's head snapped up at the name of Dragomir. I swear I saw recognition, as well as panic, reflected in her eyes. Did she know them?

"Makes sense." Sydney says before I could interrogate Jill about her reaction. "You could always just write about basketball, right?"

I hummed in agreement as I considered the idea. I guess I could make that work as a topic. But I was more interested now in Jill. I was interrupted again by coach Alberta's whistle in the hall. Guess she decided we had had enough time to shower and now wanted to make her announcement. We all shuffled out towards her and formed a semi circle around her, all of us itching to get out of here instead of listening to her. Fortunately, stony faced Alberta was always very brief.

"Ladies, as you all may know, this neighbourhood has recorded an all time high in the number of sexual assaults that have occured. Whether this is because more people are reporting it now a days, or simply that the number has actually increased, our sport's club has decided to collaborate with the local gym, Vladimir Fitness, to offer a self defence course to all of its female members, for free. Therefore, next Thursday's lesson will be cancelled and replaced with a class on self-defence. I expect you all to be there. All the information I have just given you is on this pamphlet, so pass them around before you leave. See you all then." With that, Alberta passed a stack of papers to a team member, before she turned on her heels and left. Ah, short and sweet, just the way we know good ol' Alberta.

I grabbed three sheets before breaking out of the semi circle and scanning the paper. The gym name tickled something in my memory, and checking the name of the instructor, I realised exactly why. I suppressed a grin.

"While we were on the topic of fighting, huh?" Sydney nudged me as we made our way to the exit.

"Yeah, I can't wait to knock your ass on the floor." I joked, but I could sense Sydney becoming prickly at my comment so I quickly changed topic. "So, who's up for a round of milkshakes? Gain back the calories we just burned?"

Sometimes, with enough convincing on my part, we would get something to eat at the diner a block away. We hadn't done it in a while, now that I thought of it.

"No thanks, I have a major paper due tomorrow." Sydney sighed, as she opened her car door. I had a feeling that wasn't the reason she was refusing the calorie rich dessert. "I'll see you guys at the gym!"

"Remember to eat dinner!" I shouted, hoping she'd hear. The eye roll I got from her was the only acknowledgment I got. I turned to face Jill, remembering that I still had some information I needed to extract from here. "You up for it? It'll be my treat."

Jill looked hesitant. "My mum will be waiting for me…"

"C'mon, text her that you'll be home later and that I'll walk you home. Think of the delicious caramel vanilla shake!"

I saw the hesitance in her eyes slowly fade as it was replaced with hunger.

"And," I watched her reaction carefully, "I can tell you more about the car crash, if you want."

That did it for her. Jill's eyes widened, and she quickly agreed to the idea, pulling out her phone to text her mother. What had her so interested in the Dragomir name?

* * *

She would _not_ stop hiccuping.

I was having a hard enough time covering up the fact that Lissa was drunk out of her mind from Stan as well as opening the coffee shop simultaneously, and her constant hiccups were not helping my frayed nerves.

The perpetrator of these hiccups was sitting at a table smack in the middle of the coffee shop with a pencil in hand, doing some of the children's mazes we had lying around. Her intoxicated state, coupled with the sunglasses I was making her wear inside to cover her blood shot eyes, resulted in her failing at the mazes disastrously. This was hilarious to Lissa, who was giggling, only to be interrupted with another hiccup. I looked over my shoulder to make sure that Stan's office door was tightly shut. The only reason he had even let her sit in here with me while I was opening was because I convinced him she really needed to study undisturbed, and Stan held her in high regards, unlike me.

In truth, Lissa and I had gone out for a couple of cocktails with her college friends, which then turned into a few more drinks, and then a few more, and then suddenly the night ended about… twenty minutes ago, as I realised I had to get to work. It is so easy for Lissa to convince me to do stuff, but usually the stuff she convinces me to do is study more, not go out with her the night before a morning shift. Now, I had a whole shift to do without sleep and exhausted from the dancing and alcohol that had left my system.

Lissa was luckier. She was still drunk, but I couldn't trust her to get home alone safely, so she would be sitting this shift with me.

"You know what we should do?!" She slurred, louder than necessary, looking down at her nails on the hand that was holding the pencil, "We should totally get our nails done!"

"Sure, Liss. Maybe later." I said, working the coffee machine, making sure it was working properly before filling it up with coffee beans. My nails would just break at work anyway if I got them done.

Lissa was in the middle of saying something before the chimes alerted us to the presence of a customer.

Looking up, I smiled initially as Dimitri came into view, but it soon turned to an expression of horror as I saw he was going to have to walk past Lissa to get to me.

Dimitri registered my change in expression and responded with a quizzical look, before he heard Lissa hiccup and snapped his head over to her.

"Hello," He nodded his head respectfully towards her, assuming she was just a customer who enjoyed wearing sunglasses inside before the sun was even up, before heading towards me. I prayed Lissa wouldn't realise this was the guy she had teased me about a few times.

She just giggled some more, not even responding. He gave her a confused smile, so I tried to distract him from her.

"Two days in a row now," I said, as I begun his order. "I'm a lucky girl."

He gave a non committal hum in response, "I see that someone beat me here today. Did she get the same hostility I used to get in the beginning, or was that specially reserved for me."

"Don't worry, I don't play favourites. I act hostile towards all my customers equally, especially the morning ones." I said, in a brassy manner.

"Good, we wouldn't want to give your boss reason to fire you over favouritism."

"No, I think my utter lack of skill when it comes to coffee, plus the two strikes I already have, should be enough."

Instead of responding, Dimitri decided to inspect me as I finished making the coffee. I knew I looked worn around the edges after the night I just had, and suddenly I felt very self conscious about it under his watchful eyes.

"Are you okay? You look a little…" He began.

"Like shit?" I offered.

"Tired," He said.

As he handed me the money, I glanced over his should to make sure Lissa was behaving herself, since her hiccups seemed to have mysteriously disappeared. She very obvious was not behaving; she was wagging her eyebrows at me so extremely, I was almost afraid she'd pull a muscle in her face. I quickly pulled my eyes back to Dimitri, so as not to draw his attention to the drunken mess that was Lissa. Damn her, she'd figured out who he was.

Obviously, nothing slipped his attention, but he didn't look at her, rather just raise an eyebrow at me. I realised I still hadn't answered him.

"Oh. I didn't really sleep much. Or, at all."

"Why?"

"My friends peer pressure me into making bad decisions." I say, while handing him back his change, which he immediately drops in the tip box. Just a week ago, Mason and I had decided we wanted to play a battle of the sexes at work, and made two separate tip boxes, one for the girls and one for the boys. Although Mason charmed most of the soccer moms who buy their lattes here to fill up the boys tip box, Dimitri had been a faithful donator to the girls tip box right from the beginning.

"I don't believe that for a second. I think you can make those decisions all on your own." He smiles, sipping the coffee.

"Thank you, for all the faith and trust you put in me." I hold my hand over my heart in a mock gesture of humbleness.

Over his shoulders, Lissa's gestures were getting more obscene. Did she really have to be so drunk right now?! When it got to the point that Lissa started french kissing the air, I had to say something.

"Cut that crap out!" I say, startling Dimitri. He furrows his eyebrows, before he realises I wasn't looking or addressing him, so I added "Sorry, not you," as validation.

Lissa stopped, but a grin was still plasted over half her face, the other half covered by her sunglasses. Dimitri looked over at her, before back at me. As soon as he looked away, she started with the eyebrow wagging again.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"Nothing," I say quickly, not really sure how to cover this up. Lissa would say the dumbest shit to him if I introduced her right now.

He gave me a _don't try and bullshit me_ look, but instead of responding, I gave her the middle finger over his shoulder as she started blinking her eyes madly and puckering up her lips.

Dimitri, I could tell, was at his wits end as he looked back at Lissa, who again acted like she wasn't miming behind his back. "She obviously can't see that?!"

His comment took me a moment to decipher. _She couldn't see?_ Then, I looked over at her with the eyes of a stranger and realized that while I thought the sunglasses would cover up her bloodshot and drunken eyes, to a stranger she looked like a blind woman. Once it clicked in my head, I nearly doubled over laughing. I guess the alcohol hadn't completely left my system either.

"Lissa, he thinks you blind!" I said to her, as she joined me in my uncontrollable giggles. It took me a while to calm down, my face probably red. Dimitri looked unimpressed, with an eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

"Sorry, sorry. I really need to explain this," I gushed, as I rushed around the counter and went over to her. Dimitri followed me. "She's not blind, she's just very drunk, and I can't have Stan find out, or else he'll realise I was out with her last night. And that could easily becoming my third strike, coming to work hungover."

Things seemed to click in his head, and to confirm my point, I went to stand behind Lissa and lifted the sunglasses off her face. Once I did this, she decided it was a good point to introduce herself.

"Hi, my name is Lissa, and I'm Rose's best friend." She stretched out her hand, with her million dollar smile radiating at him. "You must be the guy I hear _so_ much about."

Her exaggeration caused me to blush. Dimitri looked over at me, mildly surprised.

"I'm Dimitri. Nice to meet you, and to put a face to a name." Hesitantly, he stepped forward, shaking her hand, still appearing slightly put off by being left out of the loop. He seemed more offended at that than the fact we had been laughing at him.

"Oh?" Lissa tilted her head back to look at me with raised eyebrows, before focusing back on him. "I've been mentioned? What has she told you?"

"Well, I was there-" This time, I was miming behind Lissa's back, as I started slicing at my neck with my hand franticly, trying to tell him to stop. He was going to mention the Aaron meltdown, and I had decided I wouldn't bother Lissa with it. If she found out now, we would have another meltdown on our hands.

Dimitri got the message, and he cut himself off, but only took a second to rethink. I was quite impressed by the speed of his response. "Rose mentioned you were studying Law. I'm working at a law firm right now, so-"

Lissa cut him off. "Oh my God! Really? You're working as a lawyer? But you look so young! Where do you work? What department are you in? Where-"

Questions kept spilling out of her mouth, so rapidly they were slurring together. She seemed to have forgotten her mission of embarrassing me. She kind of reminded me of Jill when she was rambling like this. While this was going on, Dimitri took the opportunity to look at me with a slightly questioning look of his own as he raised his coffee to his lips. I knew what he was asking: Why hadn't I told Lissa about Aaron?

I diverted my attention else where. "Breathe, Liss. How is he supposed to answer all this? Do _you_ even remember your first question?"

She shut up, and looked contemplative.

"That's what I thought," I said, as I brushed some knots out of her sticky hair. Beer, by the smell of it.

Dimitri pulled out the chair at Lissa's table and sat down, taking both of us by surprise, but instead of reacting to our shock, he gave us an easy smile. A swoon-worthy smile.

"I'll try answer as much as possible," He said, kindly, and then jumped right in.

While he was talking, and Lissa stared at him, enwrapped, I went back to work. I was already behind on setting up the counter full of cakes and snacks, so I started doing that while I listened to Dimitri's soothing baritone voice in the background. Listening to them converse about the job wasn't exciting to me, persay, but hearing more about his day job, without him talking in Layman's terms about it, did things to me that were too embarrassing to admit.

When I was nearly done filling up, I accidentally dropped one of the seasonal pecan pie cupcakes onto the floor. Instead of throwing it out, I went back over to my friends and placed the cupcake in front of Lissa.

"Eat," I order, before heading back to the counter, "The carbs will soak up the alcohol."

Lissa digs in without a protest, but Dimitri's eyes stay on me. "I'm pretty sure that's a myth. Eat a pickle and some raw eggs instead."

I rolled my eyes. "That has got to be the most Russian thing you've ever said to me."

"If Russians know about one thing, its how to cure a hangover."

"Okay, then I'd like to see you convince Lissa to drink raw eggs. She won't even eat a burger that isn't well done."

"Double negative." Lissa said, while still devouring the cupcake, moaning at the taste. She made no other comment to our conversation.

"Are you serious? Even drunk you correct my grammar?" I stare at her incredulously. Dimitri smiles endearingly at me, and was about to say something, but Lissa cut in as her eyes widen in realisation.

"Oh my God! Rose! Pecan pie! Thanksgiving! We haven't planned anything!"

Thanksgiving was about two weeks away, and I was so looking forward to it because I wouldn't have school _or_ work that day. Lissa and I normally planned well in advanced for the holiday, considering we didn't really have family to celebrate it with, but this year it had kind of slipped through the cracks. But I didn't exactly worry, since I knew Liss would get it all planned just in time.

"I know, I completely forgot about it. Or well, forgot we don't have plans."

Lissa pulled out her phone and started typing, probably texting people. She seemed to not realize it was still before six in the morning, and if anything she would get pissy replies from waking people up. She has got the learn hard way about drunk texting.

"So, Dimitri," I drawled, leaning over the counter, where I rested my head on my palm. "What's your Thanksgiving looking like? Do you even celebrate it?"

Dimitri tipped his head back and finished the last of his coffee, before answering me. "No, not really. I used to spend Thanksgiving's with either my friends or colleagues, but after-"

He cut himself off with a swallow, and looked to the floor, contemplating his words.

"After falling out with a friend, I decide it was best to leave your American traditions alone. Now, I just spend the day alone, catching up on chores, which is also nice."

I wanted to ask about the friend, desperately, and this falling out he spoke of. I knew so little about Dimitri, because he was so good at keeping his personal life stowed away and technically I was only his barista, but I craved knowing more about him. However, I also understood that I wouldn't get any information out of him with Lissa sitting right next to him. While he might open up more around me, he definitely wouldn't around someone he just met. Damn it.

So instead, I decided to focus on something else.

"Our traditions? Americans have very few traditions. Other than barbecuing and racism, of course."

"Don't forget the Superbowl." Lissa piped up, still engrossed in her phone.

"Ah, how could I forget the Superbowl, and the obligatory hotwings."

"I guess you don't watch the Superbowl either." She says, glancing at Dimitri. His lips twitch with a smile.

"No, I would never. I hate American football."

"Hey!" I shot up from my leaning position, offended. "Don't say shit like that around me! It's the best sport out there."

"The rules make no sense and it's _so_ boring." He counters back.

"Honestly, I can't believe I even considered you a friend before you betrayed me in such cold blood."

"There's commercials constantly." He adds, amused at my outrage.

"The violence of it is so beautiful, though. All that headbashing…" I sigh, dreamily.

"Scientists have _literally_ proven its unbelievably bad for you and the NFL denied the science for years."

"That's all just conspiracy theories."

With an eye roll, Dimitri stood up. "As entertaining as this one sided debate has been, I have to get going. It was nice meeting you, and I'll see you around, Rose." With a wave in my direction and a goodbye to Lissa, he made his way to the door.

"Yeah, Thursday." I say, cryptically.

"What's Thursday?" He asked, his hand resting on the doorknob.

I shrug noncommittally, not wanting to tell him about the self defence class I knew he was instructing. I just liked messing with him. With an eye roll, Dimitri left, seeming to realise he wasn't getting any more information out of me.

As soon as he was out the door, I turned towards Liss, who finally put her phone down to look at me with a full blown smirk and a _I totally see what's going on_ look on her face.

"What?"

"Don't act all blasé around me, missy."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Just say what you have to say, already."

"I will tell you exactly what I think of your painfully obvious flirting but first I must say…" She looks towards the door, out of which he just walked, dreamily. "He is so. Fucking. Hot."


End file.
